


hanging in the stars

by porcelainsimplicity



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Apocalypse (2016) - Fandom
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), X-Men: Apocalypse Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 30,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsimplicity/pseuds/porcelainsimplicity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As En Sabah Nur faded from existence, Erik slowly floated down until his feet hit the ground and he could finally let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [【授翻】hanging in the stars 悬于星辰](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7777903) by [HailTheTranslationParty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HailTheTranslationParty/pseuds/HailTheTranslationParty)



> hi. i have a lot of feelings about XMA and i am going to use this story to get them out. i don't know where it's headed, i don't know if charles and erik are going to become lovers again, i don't know if this is going to be about anything other than the deep, loving friendship that exists between these two whether they want to admit it or not. so if you decide to come along for the ride with me, i sincerely hope that i end up crafting something that people will love, that i will love. i adore this pairing (though i refuse to use its portmanteau) and i want to do them justice yet stay within the world the movieverse has created. so we'll see where this goes!

As En Sabah Nur faded from existence, Erik slowly floated down until his feet hit the ground and he could finally let go. Letting go meant taking off his helmet, and it was like recoiling from a gunshot, hard, fast, and painful. He'd used every last bit of his ability to do what it was En Sabah Nur had wanted, and at that moment, he felt like he could never manipulate a magnetic field ever again. He was empty, hollow, as destroyed inside as the city around him was, and unlike the city, Erik knew he'd never be whole again.

The grief for Magda and Nina came rushing back, like water released from a dam, flooding into the cavity of his body until it was all he felt, all he could think of. The tears fell before he could stop them, the screaming started before he could stop it, and the agony he felt was something he was sure would never dull away.

A pair of fingers brushed against his left temple, something he barely registered until the voice came echoing through his head. 

_It is alright, Erik Lehnsherr. The grief may consume you now but it will not forever. You are stronger than you think._

Erik lifted his head and blinked his eyes until they focused on a young girl with red hair, the one who had unleashed the yellowlight blinding energy that helped to destroy En Sabah Nur once and for all. She was the one with two fingers on his left temple, and it must have been her voice that he heard inside his head. “How?”

“The Professor asked me to check on you,” she said, and Erik realized he really should ask for her name. “It's Jean.”

Erik gave her a confused look for a moment before shaking his head lightly. “You must excuse me, it's been a long time since I've been around telepaths.”

“I understand,” Jean said, crouching down to look Erik in the face. “The Professor isn't saying much right now. He's badly injured mentally, and I'm not sure he's in much better shape physically. But he keeps saying your name, and he specifically asked how you're doing.”

Erik let himself fall back until he was sitting on the ground, helmet by his side. “I honestly don't know how to answer that.”

Jean gave him a soft smile. “Are you injured physically?”

Erik thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “I don't think so. I just feel so hollow and empty.”

“That we can work on back at school,” Jean said, holding out her hand. “We need to take the Professor home. Come with us? I know that the Professor would like that, and I think you would too.”

Erik stared at her in disbelief, wondering how she could come to such conclusions about him when they'd only been face to face for about five minutes.

“Actually, it's been more like ten,” Jean said. “You're thinking and speaking very slowly. Also, you need friends when you're grieving. And I know the Professor is a friend.”

Erik chuckled before reaching out and taking Jean's hand. Jean helped him up off the ground, and put an arm around his waist to steady him when he started to sway. 

“My helmet,” Erik muttered, and before he could try to get it, it was floating up towards his hand. “How?”

“I'm telekinetic too,” Jean said as Erik got a grip on the helmet. “We've sort of got a triage area set up over this way, so that's where we're going to go, okay?”

They made it seven steps before Moira MacTaggert was in front of them, and the first thing Erik thought was that he was about to be arrested. 

“You're not about to be arrested,” Jean assured him. “Moira is helping us on this mission.”

“Mission,” Erik laughed hollowly. “Like you're a team ready to be deployed whenever the world needs you.”

“They're not one yet,” came Raven's voice, raspy and barely legible. “But they will be when I'm done with them.”

Erik looked past Moira to where Raven was, and his brow furrowed. “What happened to your voice?”

“Don't worry about it,” Raven said, turning away from them. “Jean, Moira, get him over here close to Charles so maybe Charles will stop mumbling his name.”

Moira moved around to Erik's left side and wrapped her arm around his waist, and she and Jean walked him towards the place where Charles was resting. Erik looked around as they moved. There was the kid who'd broken him out of the Pentagon, the one who'd tried to talk him down with Raven, and he looked like he had a nasty leg injury. Ororo was trying to help bandage it with what little they had, while a boy with sunglasses and a kid that looked too much like a combination of Raven and Azazel sat next to the Pentagon kid and tried to keep him distracted. 

Raven was next to Charles's side when they reached him, and Jean carefully helped him stretch out on the floor of whatever this building used to be until he was lying next to him. Raven hurried Moira away, and Jean ran a thumb across Erik's brow. “Rest, both of you. We'll let you know when we've figured a way out of here.”

Erik watched as she walked away and then reached a hand out, linking it with Charles's left hand. “I'm here, Charles. Physically at least. The rest of me is a mess.”

“Erik,” Charles mumbled, but his fingers tightened around Erik's grasp. “You're home.”

Erik wanted to protest, wanted to say that they were in Cairo and he'd just tried to destroy the entire Earth and God, how many people he must have just killed, but he didn't. Charles didn't care where they physically were. He only cared that Erik was there, because to Charles, Erik was home.

Erik wasn't sure if Charles was home anymore, or if he ever would be again. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing Magda and Nina, and God, how the agonizing hurt spread through every part of him when his mind drew up their picture. But maybe the words of the young telepath were right. Maybe he was stronger than he thought he was.

“Yes, Charles,” he ended up saying. “I'm home. Now rest. Don't worry about me. I'm right here.”

Charles didn't say anything, just fell into a light healing sleep. Erik soon joined him, his sleep painful and agonizing.

Jean came to check on them every once and awhile, sending soothing thoughts to both of them, trying to help them heal in different ways. She knew it would be a long time before either of them was back to their normal selves, but she was going to be there every day, sending soothing thoughts their way until they no longer needed them.


	2. Chapter 2

Erik didn't know how they got out of Cairo, but the next time he opened his eyes, he was lying on the floor of a plane. He slowly let the feeling of being in the air pass over him, then sat up straight and started looking around. Raven was in the back of the obviously private plane, fussing over the Pentagon kid, and he really needed to start learning names if he was actually going to be staying at the school for awhile. He wasn't sure that was the best place for him to be, positive that MacTaggert would go back to the CIA and then lead them exactly to him for his arrest, but the young telepath – Jean, his mind helpfully provided – she was certain that he wasn't going to be arrested. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his name, and he searched the area until he found where Charles was. He carefully maneuvered himself off of the floor and onto wobbly legs, then stumbled across the aisle to where Charles was lying on a sofa. He collapsed back onto the floor next to the sofa, reached out for Charles's hand, and linked his fingers with his.

“It's alright, Charles,” he murmured softly. “I'm here.”

“Erik,” Charles mumbled, but in an entirely different tone than before. “You're home.”

At the word home, his house in Poland flashed before his eyes, Magda and Nina lying in the bed he and Magda had shared as though they were sleeping. He hadn't heard news reports of what he'd done, though he was certain that authorities had figured out it was him, but he guessed they were probably blaming him for their deaths as well. Erik Lehnsherr, Magneto, the man so horrible that to save his own skin he'd murder his own wife and child. Magda and Nina were his world, his life, his heart, his home. He wouldn't have hurt them for any reason. That's why he'd been truthful with Magda of who he really was, why she knew that they really needed to leave that night, why he'd been willing to turn himself over to the police if they'd just leave Magda and Nina alone.

Two fingers brushed along his temple, and he heard Jean's voice echo through his mind. 

_You are lost in your own grief again, Erik. Please, do not let it consume you the way you are letting it do so now. I see them in your mind. I see how much you cared for them, how much you loved them. There will be a time and a place for letting this grief out, but it is not on this plane._

Erik opened his eyes to see Jean crouched in front of him, her eyes filled with worry. “What was I doing?”

“Screaming,” she said softly, and Erik found a soothing, calm thought pass through his mind. “You made the Professor start screaming your name too.”

“I'm sorry,” Erik said, feeling tears stream down his cheeks. “I'm so sorry.”

“It's alright, Erik,” Raven said, crouching down next to him and putting her hand on his shoulder. Her voice was slightly better than it had been on the ground in Cairo, but Erik still wanted to know why it sounded so horrible. She hadn't sounded that way when she and the Pentagon kid were trying to talk him down.

“Will you please tell me what happened to your voice, Raven?” he asked softly, turning to look at her.

Raven sighed before nodding. “Apocalypse choked me nearly to death.”

“Apocalypse?”

“That's what the kids have taken to calling En Sabah Nur,” Moira said from the back of the plane, and worry about her presence flowed through Erik again. 

“Do not worry about her,” Jean said, still crouched in front of him. “She is not going to have you arrested. Instead, she's going to tell her superiors how you helped to defeat him.”

Erik didn't believe that for a moment, but he didn't argue the point. “So you call him Apocalypse, huh?”

“Well,” Jean said, “that's pretty much what he caused.”

“No,” Erik said, shaking his head. “That's what I caused.”

“Erik,” Raven said softly. “If you dwell on this, you'll never be able to move past it. And you've got to move past it, for all of mankind and mutantkind. You realized who you were betraying, and you helped put an end to it. That's all that matters.”

“Until they start calling for my arrest,” Erik murmured. “Again. Charles will probably gladly hand me over.”

“If you think that,” Raven said, standing up, “then you don't really know Charles.”

Erik watched as Raven walked away before turning to Jean, whose face had nothing but concern on it. “Why aren't you scared of me? You've seen the destruction I can cause.”

“Well, I learned today about the kind of destruction I can cause,” Jean said, shifting around until she was sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. “The Professor told me to let go and I did. I annihilated a man today both mentally and physically and, to be honest, I'm more terrified of myself at the moment than I am you.”

“Ah, yes, the Professor. He was communicating with you mentally?” When Jean nodded, Erik continued. “He went into my mind once, found the place I needed to concentrate on to use my powers to the best of their ability. Showed me where to get to and where to just let go. Before I was just concentrating on my rage. I went back to that today, until the memories of him telling me about that place between rage and serenity broke through my mind. That was when I realized I was betraying all of you by following En Sabah Nur.”

“The Professor will be glad to hear that, I think,” Jean said, smiling at him. “Sometimes I catch him wondering what you're doing. I never let him know that though. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to hear those moments.”

Erik just shook his head. “The Professor always has been an idealist. Probably thinks I'm still able to be saved.”

“I think today proved you are,” Jean said. “You could have kept helping him. You could have watched him kill us all. But you didn't.”

“There's been enough death in my life lately,” Erik said, tears starting to stream down his cheeks again. “I wanted to blame mankind for taking them from me. Instead I should just blame myself.”

“No,” Jean said, reaching out to wipe away some of his tears. “It's not your fault, Erik.”

“Actually, I think it is,” Erik said, looking up when the kid with the sunglasses came walking towards them.

“Hey Jean, Peter's starting to wake up and Mystique was wondering if you could put him back into that light sleep you had him in.”

“Of course, Scott.” Jean nodded and turned to Erik. “I'll be back soon, okay? In the meantime, you should get some more sleep.”

Erik watched as Jean stood up and walked away with sunglasses kid – Scott, his mind provided – before turning back to where Charles was lying on the sofa. “That Jean is very intelligent for her age, Charles. She's lucky to have you, and I think you're lucky to have her too.”

“Erik,” Charles mumbled, and Erik linked his fingers with Charles's again. “You're home.”

“Yes, Charles,” Erik said, leaning up against the sofa. “I'm home.”


	3. Chapter 3

Home, in the literal sense, would turn out to be the ruins of the mansion that once stood there. Small tents were set up all across the lawn, and as soon as the cars they were in approached, a young girl in a bright yellow jacket walked out into the middle of the road, making them stop.

“I am sure that this is not your fault, because that military helicopter guy looked scary, but it's been like god only knows how many hours and we've been here by ourselves, and I am not a teacher, I am not a mother, and I am not an adult!”

“Leave it to Jubilee to take charge while the adults are gone, and then blame the adults for her doing it once they're back,” Jean said from next to Erik.

“I wonder where they got the tents,” Erik murmured as the car door opened and Moira peeked her head inside.

“Hank's dealing with the girl. Raven wants to use it as a distraction to get Charles out of the car as quietly as possible.”

Erik nodded and the makeshift metal stretcher that Erik had made with structural pieces of the plane's sofa began to lift off of his and Jean's laps. He waved Moira out of the way and the stretcher moved until it was out of the car, Erik and Jean following it. Once they were outside, Erik noticed where Raven was setting up the medical equipment that they'd gotten from the plane and guided the stretcher over to her, setting it gently down on the ground.

When he turned around, everyone was staring at them. Before he could say or do anything, Jean stood in front of him. “The Professor wants him here. And as you all know, the Professor's word goes. Now get back to what you were doing.”

Everyone went back to what they'd been doing and Jean turned around, looking up at Erik. “The Professor's word is as holy as God's around here. They'll listen.”

“Why did you say that he wants me here?” Erik asked. “He's barely said three sentences since I've been around him.”

“Not everything is spoken verbally,” Jean said, smiling. “He wants you here. Trust me on that.”

“Jean!” came the voice of another one of the kids, the blue teleporter that looked too much like a combination of Raven and Azazel, and she smiled and walked away from him. 

Erik found himself standing there, unsure of what to do, so he wandered towards what used to be the mansion, coming to the edge of the ruins to find Hank standing there. “What happened?”

“When you came, when you took Charles,” Hank started, sighing. “Alex unleashed his powers in your direction, but you all were gone. It hit the engine of the plane I'd built for the hangar downstairs, and there was a massive explosion. It would have probably killed or seriously injured everyone if hadn't been for Peter.”

“Peter?” Erik's mind quickly supplied him with a picture of Pentagon kid, and he understood. “He was quick enough to save everyone?”

“Everyone but Alex,” Hank said, nodding to where sunglasses kid – Scott, his mind provided – was searching through the rubble. “Scott's his younger brother. Only reason Alex was here was to bring Scott to the school. He stuck around to help the Professor out with some stuff, went to D.C. with him to find out what Moira knew. He destroyed Cerebro when we couldn't get it to shut down, and then a minute or two later, you all were there.”

“I'm sorry,” Erik found himself saying, watching Scott search through the rubble. “I was blinded by rage. He played into that. He said we needed Charles and I told him where to find him.”

“I won't say it's okay, that no harm was done, because it's not and there was,” Hank said, shaking his still-blue head. “But I think you'll have your chance to make up for it.”

Erik turned to look at Hank. “Make up for it?”

“Well, someone's going to have to lift the metal beams,” Hank said, stepping into the rubble. “As soon as I find the safe I keep all the blueprints in, I'm ordering all the building materials and we're rebuilding the mansion piece by piece.”

Erik watched as Hank stepped into the rubble but then his eyes went back to where Scott was searching. If he remembered the layout of the house correctly, then the kid was searching in the wrong place. Before he realized what he was doing, he had stepped into the rubble and was making his way towards the kid. “Kid. Scott.”

Scott looked up at him and gave him a confused look. “I already told Jean that nobody's going to stop me.”

“I'm not trying to stop you,” Erik said, shaking his head. “I'm just going to tell you that you're looking in the wrong place.”

“Oh,” Scott said, looking around. “Where should I be looking?”

“Over here,” Erik said, walking down the remnants of what used to be the bomb shelter. Clearly the bomb shelter hadn't been built to withstand an explosion of that nature inside of it, because the top was completely gone and the sides weren't much better. He came to a stop pretty close to where they had been in the hallway, and waited for the kid to catch up to him. “Here. He'd be somewhere around here.”

“Thanks,” Scott said quietly. “Will you help me look?”

Erik glanced around but no one else was to be found, so he nodded. This was just yet another death he was responsible for, another one for his conscience to dwell on, and the least he could do was help Alex's younger brother find some closure.

Scott bent down and started to pick through the rubble, but Erik closed his eyes and let his senses extend out. He'd really only done this once before, when Nina had heard the cry of pain from one of her deer friends but she couldn't find him, and if tears started streaming down his cheeks, well, too bad. He had to help give this kid closure, because he knew he never would have any.

Erik took two deep breaths before he felt it, faint and listless but there. The iron in blood didn't fade away once someone died, just stayed there in the blood until it was completely gone. There hadn't been enough time for Alex's blood to be completely gone, and there it was, that faint mixture of iron in someone's blood. “I think he's over here.”

Scott looked up as Erik floated over to the spot where he felt it, and then he began to sense the metal in the things that were covering his body and moving them away. When he got down to one layer of debris over Alex's body, he turned to Scott. “Are you absolutely certain you want to see him like this?”

Scott nodded. “I need to see him. I need to know he's really dead.”

“If you say so,” Erik said, carefully uncovering Alex's body. 

Scott gasped as Alex came into view, and Erik was glad that his body wasn't in worse shape than it was. If he was that close to an explosion of such magnitude, Alex should have looked a hell of a lot worse. Erik looked over at Scott and found the kid on his knees in tears, and Erik lowered himself to the ground next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

“Your brother was a good man,” he said softly. “I am sorry for your loss.”

Scott laughed hollowly. “He would have said you were an asshole.”

“He would have been right,” Erik said, swallowing hard at the thought of young Alex, so eager to learn to control his powers. He'd betrayed Alex on that Cuban beach, betrayed Alex when he'd nearly killed the President and all those men at the White House, betrayed Alex when he'd joined forces with En Sabah Nur. “Your brother deserved better than what it is I did to him. He put faith in me and I failed him.”

“Scott?” came Jean's voice, and they both turned towards her as she made her way towards them. “Hank told me you were looking for Alex.”

“We found him,” Scott got out before Jean got to him and wrapped him up in a hug. 

“Oh Scott, I'm so sorry,” Jean said, looking over at Erik. “What do we do now?”

“We give him a proper burial,” Erik said, the fact that Magda and Nina didn't get one leaping high into his throat and making it hard to swallow. “Get him out of here. I'll take care of removing Alex from the rubble.”

Jean nodded and pulled Scott up, walking him in the other direction. Erik stared down at the body of the boy who was once so eager to learn from him and was now dead because of him before slowly lifting him from the rubble. With all of the students in tents on the front lawn, Erik took Alex's body to the back, laying him down on what used to be the patio. He procured a tarp from a garden shed that was amazingly untouched, and he took one last long look at Alex's body before he covered it.

Erik was sitting on the ground next to Alex's body when Jean found him half an hour later, and she sat down next to him, immediately putting the now-familiar two fingers along his left temple.

“It's not your fault, Erik.”

“It is,” he said. “I don't expect you to understand.”

“I know what the Professor would think.”

Erik just shook his head. “Let me guess, more mental conversation.”

“He's growing stronger,” Jean said. “He wants to know what's going on. He was sad to learn about Alex, but he does not blame you, and you should not blame yourself.”

Erik sighed. “Give him a message for me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Tell him that if he has something to say to me, he can say it to me himself,” Erik said. “Not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do, Jean, but if he wants to lecture me about how I should be feeling about things, he can do it himself.”

Jean moved her fingers away and closed her eyes. She opened them a moment later and turned to look at him. “Message delivered. Do you want something to eat? Mystique is taking Peter to the hospital to get his leg set and put in a cast, and she's going to bring back food for all of us.”

“Sure. Anything will do.”

Jean just shook her head. “Fine. I'll come back over here once they're back.”

Erik nodded as Jean stood up and walked away, and he stretched himself out on the grass. He was just about asleep when the old, familiar voice echoed through his head.

 _Erik,_ Charles said, _you're home._

Erik smiled. _Yes, Charles, for the moment, I'm home._


	4. Chapter 4

Erik volunteered to dig Alex's grave himself. Every time the shovel went into the ground, that image of Magda and Nina with an arrow piercing through both of them came to his mind, and he angrily flung the gathered dirt into a pile. Tears were streaming down his cheeks before the third shovel; he was in absolute agony by the twelfth. By the twenty-first, he collapsed to the ground next to the hole and covered his face with his hands, sobbing hard into them.

His babies. His world. Gone in an instant because of him. 

He could never forgive himself for causing their deaths, and he caused them. No one was ever going to convince him it was the man who actually fired the arrow who did. The only reason those police had been there was because of him, the only reason Nina had lost control was because of him, the only reason that arrow was fired was because of him.

After awhile, Erik came back to himself, no longer so overtaken with grief that he couldn't tell what was going on, and when he did, he heard the sound of shovels hitting dirt. He removed his hands from his face and looked up, finding the kids that had been on the mission helping him by digging the grave. 

“Jean,” he started, but she just shook her head.

“You need our help, Erik,” she said matter-of-factually. “Accept it.”

Erik looked around at the other kids – Scott and the blue teleporter whose name he really needed to learn – before nodding. “Alright.”

Erik climbed back to his feet and grabbed his shovel, sticking it back into the ground where the kids had made a little progress. He looked over at the blue teleporter and nodded. “What's your name?”

“Kurt Wagner,” he said, giving Erik a toothy grin. “But in the Munich Circus they called me the Incredible Nightcrawler.”

Erik stopped shoveling. “Circus?”

“Ja,” Kurt said. “That is where I grew up.”

Rage and anger flowed through Erik until it was whitehot in his veins, and before he realized it, the shovels were completely bent and totally useless. “Someone made you grow up in a circus? So what, you could be put on display for humans and entertain them?”

“Ja, until they sold me to the mutant fighting ring,” Kurt said. “They put me in a box and chained it shut until I was released into the ring.”

“Who the hell are your parents?” Erik got out, his teeth gritted and mouth tight. 

“I do not know,” Kurt said. “I only have a few memories of a red man who could teleport like me and a blue woman.”

If Erik's rage was whitehot before, it was incandescent now. He forced himself to take a deep breath, reached down with his power, and picked up the rest of the dirt that needed to be moved. He flew it over Kurt and Scott's heads and down onto the pile they'd made. When it was over, he crouched down in front of the grave and took another deep breath. 

“Erik, calm down,” Jean said, tossing her useless shovel to the ground and starting to walk towards him. 

“Jean, tell Charles I would like to speak to him.”

Jean gave Erik a concerned look, but closed her eyes and delivered the message. Before her eyes opened again, Erik heard that old, familiar voice in his head.

_Erik, Jean tells me something is wrong._

_Will you do something for me, Charles? Once you're strong enough to, of course._

_Absolutely. What is it?_

_Kurt, the blue teleporter kid, he says he has a few memories of his parents. He said there's a red man who can teleport and a blue woman. That sounds entirely too much like Azazel and Raven to me, and I'd like to know if it is them._

_Azazel and Raven? You think they had a child together? Why would Raven have said nothing to me of a child?_

_Because the kid grew up in the Munich circus, Charles. She abandoned him, if it is her._

_Abandoned...I will let you know as soon as I am strong enough to do it._

_Thank you, Charles._

Erik felt Charles's presence fade from his mind and he looked up at the kids, silently reminding himself not to take his rage out on them. “Sorry about that,” he said, standing up. “As you all may have noticed, I'm not the most stable person in the world at the moment.”

“That's alright,” Scott said. “I don't think any of us are right now.”

Erik just nodded and lifted the shovels into the air, smoothing the metal back out and making them useful again. “Alright, the grave is finished. Now we need to make a casket.”

“A casket?” Scott asked.

“You don't want to just bury your brother in the soil, do you?” Erik asked, nodding when Scott shook his head no. “Alright, we need nails, we need wood. Anyone have any idea where we can get that?”

“I do,” Jean said. “Follow me.”

She started to walk towards the woods and so Erik began to follow, the two boys falling in step behind him. Jean led them through the woods until they arrived at an old wood shed. “I found this once when I was exploring the grounds. I asked the Professor about it and he said it's some old remnant from when his grandfather lived here. He talked about having it removed but I asked him to keep it here, so I could practice my telekinesis on the stuff that's inside it. Not the best of conditions, but I figure we could use the wood for the casket and find something among what's inside to use for nails.”

Erik walked up to the shed and opened the doors, taking a look at what was inside. “Well, there's all sorts of screws and nails and even a saw in here. Definitely stuff we can use to make a casket. Nice find, Jean.”

“So how do we get all of this back to where the grave is?” Kurt asked.

“First, we take the shed apart,” Erik said, starting to float metal buckets full of screws and nails out of the shed. “Then, we carry it back to the grave.”

“I could teleport some of it,” Kurt offered. “I'm not sure I could teleport all of it, but the smaller things probably.”

“That's a great idea, Kurt,” Jean said, taking some of the floating buckets out of the air and handing them over. “Start with these.”

Kurt took them and disappeared, reappearing a moment later. “Okay, that worked.”

“Then let's get to work,” Erik said, and more stuff came floating out of the shed. 

Scott helped to empty the stuff that was not metallic from the shed, and once it was empty, Erik told everyone to stand back. Once he felt everyone was clear, he closed his eyes and pulled all the metal nails out of the shed, causing the wood to fall to the ground. 

“Awesome,” Scott said as Erik walked towards the wood. “I wish I could do that instead of the stupid powers I ended up with.”

“Don't knock your own powers,” Erik said, looking over at him. “You will learn to use and control it, just like I did. Charles is a very good teacher.”

“He taught you how to control your powers?” Kurt asked.

“No, I could control mine, but I thought the only way to use them was to fuel them with rage. Charles helped me realize that there was a much better place that I could go to in order to use them. Before I was only doing small things. After that, I turned a gigantic satellite dish around, and well, it only went from there.”

“Like how you put a stadium around the White House,” Jean said. “I watched that live on TV. You were terrifying.”

“I am terrifying,” Erik said. “None of you should forget that.”

Jean just shook her head and walked over towards him, picking up a few pieces of wood. “We're all terrifying in our own way. You shouldn't forget that. Now let's go get this casket built before lunch so we can give Alex a proper burial this afternoon.”

Jean started to walk away and Scott and Kurt soon followed her, leaving Erik standing there and wondering when it was he'd started listening to a young girl like she was his conscience.

 _It's because you don't trust your own at the moment,_ came Jean's voice echoing through his head. _Plus, I think I'm reminding you of Nina._

As soon as she said it, Erik knew she was right. He was listening to Jean the way he would have listened to Nina in a similar situation. Erik felt agony rush through him again, but this time he took deep breaths until he'd tempered it some. He picked up the rest of the wood and started walking out of the woods, agony simmering just beneath the surface and tears streaming down his cheeks.

His babies.

Gone.

His fault.

Always.

It was always his fault when people he loved died.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the support i'm getting on this fic, but please, don't just lurk. come out of the shadows and leave me a comment. i promise i don't bite.

All of the students and teachers gathered for Alex Summers's funeral. Erik, despite all the work he had done to make the funeral possible, stayed back, letting the people who knew him better mourn peacefully. He didn't deserve to be one of Alex's mourners, having failed him so much in life that he was even responsible for his death. 

As words were spoken by Scott and then Hank, Erik wandered away from the crowd and over to the tent where Charles was being monitored. He ducked inside to find it empty, Charles's eyes closed as they had been since the moment he'd first seen him again after the battle. But Erik knew better than to think that Charles wasn't there with him, so he moved a few things out of the way and stretched out beside him.

“Hello, Charles.”

 _I would have thought you'd be at the funeral,_ came Charles's voice. _You certainly did enough work to ensure it could happen._

“I'm responsible for his death, so I don't feel I have the right to be among them.”

_Oh, Erik, you are not responsible for Alex's death. Stop thinking that._

“I'm sorry, Charles, but that's never going to happen.”

Erik could hear Charles sigh inside his mind. _Fine then. May I ask you to do something for me, as you have asked me to do something for you?_

“Of course, Charles.”

_I want to tether my mind to yours, and then I want to try to push my mind back into my body._

Erik looked alarmed. "Charles, if you don't have the stre—”

_I think I do. And I'd rather test it out with you than one of the others. I know Jean would be capable, but she doesn't know me like you._

Erik took a deep breath and reached out to hold Charles's hand. “Alright. Tell me what to do.” 

_First, I'm going to tether our minds together again. You should remember what that feels like._

Oh, how Erik remembered. The connection between their minds that had been so solid, so unbreakable, until that day in Cuba in 1962. It pained him to sever that connection, pained him to the point where he thought he might have some sort of head injury, until he realized it was just an injury of the mind. Yes, it would be nice to have that connection back, if only for a short time. “Alright, Charles. Do it.” 

A few seconds later, Erik's mind flooded with recent memories of Charles's, from the battle against En Sabah Nur, to something in a pyramid that Kurt had just barely rescued him from but explained how he'd lost all his hair, to them on those rocks, looking over Cairo, Charles pleading with him not to do what he was about to do. And just as quickly as Erik's mind had been flooded, those memories rescinded, and a faint pulse of Charles remained. 

_Sorry about that. Lost a little bit of control there._

“It's alright, Charles. Now, what do I have to do?” 

Charles explained what was necessary, and for the next seventeen minutes Erik kept saying one phrase over and over. “Charles, you're home.” He didn't know how many times he said it, but they increased in urgency, Charles's hand gripping his tighter and tighter until Charles's eyes opened and he coughed. Erik quickly procured water from elsewhere in the tent, and after helping Charles to drink some of it, he smiled. 

"Charles,” he said, “you're home.” 

Charles looked around at his surroundings and then his eyes settled upon Erik. “Yes, Erik, I'm home.” 

“How do you feel?” Erik asked, looking over him for new injuries. 

“I feel like a bloody fucking truck ran over me,” Charles laughed, coughing some more. 

After Erik helped him drink more water, he nodded. “To be expected after what Apocalypse put you through.” 

“Apocalypse?” 

“It's what the kids have taken to calling him,” Erik explained. “Got to use it if you want to understand what these teenagers are saying.” 

Charles just chuckled. “They are a precocious bunch, that is for sure. I suppose it's been difficult to be around them.” 

“It has,” Erik said, his throat tightening as he fought off the tears that were threatening. “I've lost control on many occasions. But Jean has always been right there, guiding me back to the present the way you would.” 

“She's an exceptional mutant,” Charles said. “But she is scared of what she can do.” 

“I think she's even more scared now after what she did do,” Erik said. “She's mentioned to me that she's more afraid of herself than she is of me, which is preposterous. Everyone should be afraid of me. I'm a monster." 

“You are not a monster, you were just controlled by one,” Charles said. “En Sabah Nur played on the most vulnerable parts of you to get you to do what he wanted, but in the end, you came to realize that the rage you were feeling was not the thing to sustain you.” 

“No, Charles,” Erik said. “I just realized I was betraying you, and by extension, all the rest of them. Every other mutant on the planet. Every other person on the planet. They weren't responsible for my babies' deaths. I already killed the ones who were. All I needed to make me realize that was you.” 

“I didn't draw up those memories for you,” Charles pointed out. “I was too busy fighting En Sabah Nur in my mind, and quite frankly, getting my ass kicked.” 

“I know you didn't,” Erik said softly. “My mind did it on its own. I think that's why I'm still here. This place isn't as bad as I remember it.” 

“It's currently a hole in the ground.” 

“It won't be for long,” Erik said. “I talked to Hank and the building supplies should arrive tomorrow. He's got the blueprints, and Jean and I are going to put the school back together, piece by piece.” 

“Jean?” 

“I can lift the metal beams,” Erik said. “I can't lift the wood. She can do that. She volunteered to help so no one had to get up on the roof or anything like that. Hank's going to have us do the layout of the basement and then he'll do the rest from there, though I suspect we'll be building the top of the hangar into the basketball court again.” 

“I see. And how is it going to be furnished?” 

“Raven's taking care of that,” Erik said. “She said she still remembers every room of the place like it was yesterday. She'll find adequate replacements for what was inside. Hank's helping her with that too. She's also working on the students' wardrobes and school supplies. They lost everything.” 

“I lost everything as well,” Charles said, sighing. “I suppose I'll just have to start over.” 

“Hank said he found several safes in the rubble,” Erik said. “He only knew of one of them, so he figured the others were yours.” 

“The safes survived the blast? Maybe I won't have to start over after all. I did put the most important stuff in the safes all over the house.” 

“Good,” Erik said, smiling. “We'll have to make sure your study is set up right. Have to get a few games of chess in while I'm here.” 

He used to play chess with Magda every night when she was pregnant with Nina. Sometimes it would be after dinner, sometimes it would be two a.m. and she'd wake him from his slumber. She knew the game well, but not as well as Charles did, and Erik was always quick to trap her. But she learned as time went on, and by the time Nina was born, she was a pretty good player. 

Playing chess with Magda was nice. 

Playing chess with Charles was something different. 

“It's okay to think of them, you know,” Charles said after a moment. “And it's okay to have enjoyed chess with your wife. Chess doesn't exclusively have to be between you and me.” 

“I know,” Erik got out, the lump in his throat growing. “Sometimes she'd make a move and it would remind me of a move that you would make and then the memories would come flooding back and I felt guilty for being there with her when I should have been here with you. And now that she's gone, I feel guilty that I ever felt that, because being with her and with Nina, they made me a better person than I was. And I never should have betrayed her in my mind like that.” 

“We cannot control when memories hit us,” Charles said. “There have been many chess games with others when memories have hit me too. But just because you remembered something does not mean you betrayed your wife, Erik. It means that you and I had an impact on one another, and chess is a trigger for those memories. But she was your wife, the mother of your child. They were your world. You never betrayed them, Erik. Not at all." 

By the time Charles was done speaking, tears were streaming down Erik's face. Charles gripped his hand more tightly, and Erik let out a sob. “I know Jean has tried to keep you from crying, but I think now is a good time to get some of that crying out. Don't worry, no one will see you like this but me.” 

Erik cried. Cried, cried, cried, and then cried some more until he had no more energy to cry. He slipped into slumber then, dreaming of playing chess with Magda, of Nina interrupting their games to tell them about a new animal friend she'd made, and for once, it wasn't a nightmare. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for all the love everyone!

The reconstruction of the mansion started with the basement, and it was oddly comforting to Erik. It reminded him of the factory in some ways; it reminded him of his hard-working father in others. Moving the beams was easy, almost something he could do unconsciously, but he wanted Charles to have his mansion back exactly the way it was before, so he was careful in his placement of beams and where he inserted nails into the wooden pieces. Erik found it easier to visualize where things were going by being in the air, and soon he was lifting Jean into the air too so they could both have the same view, so they could both make sure things were perfect. 

Hank was down on the grass, yelling out where things needed to go, but after a few minutes, Erik grasped the basic layout of the basement and started putting beams in place before Hank told him they were needed there. Jean followed his guide, and they had the structural parts of the basement done in a short amount of time. The drywall and nails came next, and Jean let her powers stretch out, putting panel after panel on the walls, Erik keeping them in place by driving nails through them into the wooden beams behind. 

When that was done, a familiar voice told them to both come down for a moment, and Erik smiled before letting himself and Jean descend back to the ground. “You should be resting.”

“Oh, I think I'm alright enough to sit in a chair and watch you work,” Charles said as Raven held the chair steady and Hank lowered Charles into it. “You two collaborate very well.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Jean said, smiling. “Erik and I have gotten to know each other pretty well over the course of the last few days.”

Erik laughed. “More like she looked inside my head and now knows everything. She's shared very little with me.”

“I see,” Charles said, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. “Still, you two have a wonderful chemistry when you work together. Erik, your power is certainly back under control, and I would say the same with yours, Jean.”

“My telepathy is all over the place and you know it, Professor,” Jean said. “And I still feel something dark growing inside me.”

“That is nothing but your fear,” Charles assured her. “When I am stronger, we can resume our lessons and get your telepathy back under control. I know using it to such an extent in Cairo probably broke the control that you had on it.”

“Yeah, like I had much control over it to begin with,” Jean muttered. “So, can we get back to the mansion now?”

Charles sighed and looked over at Erik. “Perhaps your new friend can help you understand what control is. But yes, please, get back to rebuilding my house. And thank you for doing it.”

Erik nodded and lifted them into the air again, Jean this time taking Hank's blueprints with them. They looked through them and determined what would need to happen for the next level to be built. As they started to move metal and wood, Erik looked over at Jean. “He's right you know. You have more control than you think.”

“I saw your dream yesterday,” Jean said apologetically. “When we were having Alex's funeral, you had that dream about your wife and your daughter. I saw it.”

“What do you mean, you saw it?” Erik asked.

“When my telepathy is off, I can get sucked into other people's dreams,” Jean said. “It usually only happens at night when I'm asleep, but I think it's because I've become so in tune to you since Cairo. I can usually pick up what mood you're in or what you're thinking from the complete other side of the property.”

“So when I said you've seen everything in my mind, you really have seen everything,” Erik said, moving a metal beam into place.

“I won't tell anyone,” Jean said, setting a piece of plywood down to act as the beginnings of a floor. “It makes some things make more sense, because why else would he want to save the biggest mutant terrorist on the planet, but I promise, I won't tell anybody. It would be unethical.”

“Thank you,” Erik said softly. “I know he thinks we can get back to that point, but I'm not sure we can.”

“You'll never know unless you try,” Jean said, looking over at Erik. “It might be just the thing you need. Because you need unconditional love right now, Erik. You need to know you still have a family. And the Professor can give that to you.”

“You sound very certain of yourself,” Erik said, glancing over at her. “Why are you so certain?”

“Because yours is not the only dream I've been sucked into since we've gotten back from Cairo,” Jean said. “He dreams of the future, of a future here with you. He wouldn't do that if he didn't love you.”

Erik laughed. “For a teenager, you seem to be an expert on love.”

“My telepathy gives me the ability to read people,” Jean said. “I can figure out their feelings pretty quick.”

“And this doesn't go against the ethics lessons that Charles has obviously been giving you?” 

“Only if I go around telling everyone about it,” Jean said. “The only reason we're having this discussion now is because you wanted clarification on something. If you didn't, we wouldn't be.”

Erik thought about that for a moment. “So you understand the conundrum I find myself in then.”

“I don't think it's a conundrum at all,” Jean said. “You are allowed to love more than one person at once.”

“I don't think I can,” Erik murmured.

“You will figure out a way to be happy again, Erik Lehnsherr,” Jean said seriously. “Even if that means having nothing but friendship with the Professor. I am sure of it.”

Erik shook his head. “I think you're more intelligent than you let on, you know that?”

“Maybe,” Jean said. “Most of the school is still afraid of me though, and after Cairo, I'd say they have a pretty good reason to be.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” Erik said, looking over at her. “I don't think anyone who was with us in Cairo is. The other students will learn not to be.”

“The same way they will learn not to be afraid of you,” Jean said.

Erik turned his eyes back to the blueprints. “Everyone should be afraid of me. Look at all I've done.”

“You've had a rough life, Erik,” Jean said. “And you've done some scary things, I'll admit. But I don't think that everyone should be afraid of you. You could have killed us all in Cairo. You didn't. You could have killed us all since we got here. You haven't. Instead you're helping to rebuild our school. There's no reason to be afraid of you.”

Erik laughed hollowly. “There's always a reason to be afraid of me.”

“Erik,” Jean sighed, but Erik just shook his head. 

“Let's get this mansion rebuilt so that maybe we can sleep inside tonight, hm?”

Jean didn't like the abrupt end to their conversation, but she knew that she'd been pushing Erik hard, maybe even too hard, so she let it happen. She sent soothing thoughts his way before smiling. “Yeah, sleeping inside tonight would be great. Even if it's on the floor.”


	7. Chapter 7

The essential structure of the mansion was complete and now everyone was pitching in to help finish the inside. Hank led the group who were going around covering up the nails in the drywall, Raven was in charge of the group who were putting in the flooring, and some of the other kids were asked to stick around Peter and Charles to keep them company while everyone else worked. 

Erik and Jean were floating in the air once again, working on the ceilings. Large oak panels that must have weighed a ton were lifted into place as though they weighed the same as a piece of paper, and Erik gained more appreciation for the young telepath who had taken him under her wing. She'd put a panel in place and he'd carefully nail it into place and then they'd move on, panel by panel, floor by floor.

But Jean was quiet today, and Erik suspected that Charles had something to do with it. 

“So what did he tell you?” Erik said when they were on the second floor and on the other side of the mansion from where Charles was. “I know he told you something.”

Jean sighed and the panel she was lifting faltered for a moment before she regained control. “He told me that I should not speak to you about the things that I've seen in your head because it goes against the ethics lessons that I've learned.”

Erik just shook his head. “Charles knows that I don't like people reading my mind. Not even him. That helmet of mine? It can block a telepath. That's why I wear it when I do. But you looked into my mind and saw everything. I didn't give you permission to do that, which is probably why Charles says it's unethical. But since you have seen everything, I am giving you permission to talk to me about it. And if Charles has a problem with that, he can talk to me.”

Jean looked over at him as the panel slid into place. “Are you sure, Erik?”

“Yes,” Erik said. “I'm sure. It's been kind of nice to have someone to talk to about this stuff. Talking isn't exactly my strong suit.”

“You are stronger than you know, Erik Lehnsherr,” Jean said, holding the panel in place while Erik nailed it in. “The only way you could have survived all that you have is because of your strength.”

Erik let out a hollow laugh. “I don't feel very strong at the moment.”

“That is because your strength was hijacked by Apocalypse,” Jean said, beginning to lift another panel. “He abused it and therefore you don't trust it anymore. But it is still there and you will realize that in time. And when you do, you will be stronger than you have ever been.”

“You have the gift of foresight now?” Erik asked, laughing. “You presume too much.”

“No, I am not presuming too much,” Jean said. “Apocalypse may have abused your strength, but he taught you the depth of it. Not unlike when the Professor taught you how to use your powers without fueling them with anger. Once you trust your strength again, you will feel the depth of it.”

“Jean...”

“When I first got here, the first thing the Professor taught me is that everything we go through makes us stronger,” she continued. “Everything you've been through, particularly the recent stuff, has made you stronger. You just have to trust it.”

“Okay, okay,” Erik said, looking over at her. “I'm stronger than I think. I've got it.”

Jean just laughed. “I can see why the Professor loves you. Your personalities fit together well.”

“Is that what you want to talk about?” Erik asked, bringing up some more nails and carefully driving them into the panel. “You want to gossip about me and Charles?”

“I would never gossip about you two,” Jean said, shaking her head. “Your relationship is a secret that I will keep for the rest of my life.”

Erik smiled at her. “Thank you. I am not sure how many people would approve of it.”

“I know there is still stigma about the kind of relationship that you and the Professor had, but I just think you love who you love and that's that. Things were different in the past. They will be different in the future. Someday, a relationship like yours will not be given a second thought it will be so accepted,” Jean said, smiling at him. “You know, if you and the Professor restart your relationship. I can also understand if you don't.”

Erik's eyes filled with tears before he realized it. “I love them so much, Jean. I don't know if I can love anyone else.”

“I know you do,” Jean said, reaching out to touch Erik's arm. “No one is asking you to stop loving them. We're just telling you that you can learn to love someone else again, whether that be the Professor or someone else entirely.”

The tears started to stream down Erik's cheeks, and they slowly descended down to the floor. Erik crouched down and buried his head in his hands and Jean got onto her knees next to him, running a comforting hand along his back. 

_Professor?_ Jean asked quietly, in case he was in the middle of something else.

_Yes, Jean?_ came the response, and Jean relaxed. 

_I think Erik needs you right now,_ she said. _We were talking and now he's in anguish, and I'm not sure that I'm the one to help him._

_I understand,_ Charles said. _How about you take a break? I will try to help Erik._

_Alright,_ Jean said, ending the conversation. 

She stood up and looked down at Erik, reaching down and brushing two fingers along his left temple. _I am going to take a break, Erik. You take as long as you need._

Erik didn't react at all as Jean walked away, and he was still crouched with his head in his hands, trying to hide his tears, when he felt that old, familiar pulse of Charles brighten in his mind. _Charles, I want to be alone._

_I don't think that's the best idea,_ Charles said. _Jean is very worried about you. She doesn't think she is the one to help._

_Charles, please, let me be._

_I'm afraid I can't do that, old friend,_ Charles said, his presence in Erik's mind settling into a comforting, soothing haze. _I told you already that when you needed to cry I would keep people from seeing it. So I am here to let you cry. No one will come near you until you tell me you are ready for them to._

Erik slid onto his knees and then laid down on the plywood floor, his tears coming at a faster rate. _My babies, Charles. My babies are gone and it's my fault._

_It is not your fault,_ Charles said softly. _You must know that._

_They never would have been in that position if it wasn't for me._

_And a man in that factory would be dead if it wasn't for you,_ Charles pointed out. _I know you tried to live hidden in the shadows. I know you tried to be Henryk, tried to live among the humans. But deep down, you know that's not who you are._

_You're right. I'm not. I am a man cursed to forever live in pain. Everything that is good in my life is destroyed because of me._

_No, Erik, that is not what I mean._

_Well it is what I mean. Show me one person that I have loved that has not died because of me._

Charles was silent for a moment. _I believe you're currently talking to one, if your words to me twenty years ago were true._

Erik squeezed his eyes closed as memories of every time he'd ever told Charles he loved him flooded through his mind, including the last time, the time that Charles couldn't hear, the one he said right before Azazel teleported them away. Every single memory burned him, made him feel raw and vulnerable, and made him want to drive Charles out of his mind.

_I did not draw those memories up for you,_ Charles said after a minute. _Your mind did that itself._

_You may not have physically died, Charles, but you cannot deny that you died on that beach in Cuba. You've never been the same since._

_Well, my old friend, neither have you,_ Charles replied. _A separation like ours would obviously change both of us forever._

_Charles, I don't know if..._

_I'm not pressuring you into anything,_ Charles said. _I am only trying to point out that not everyone who you love dies. And you will love again, Erik. As will I, someday._

_But not with Moira?_ Erik asked, his voice small and lonely.

_Never with Moira,_ Charles responded. _You know it was never Moira._

Erik was silent for several minutes, just letting his mind feel the presence of Charles in his, tears still streaming down his cheeks. _I miss them, Charles. I miss them so much. I would willingly give up everything to have them back again._

_I know, Erik,_ Charles murmured. _But you will always have them in here._

The memory of Nina's first birthday came to the forefront of Erik's mind, and the tears started falling faster. His baby, his daughter, the wonder of watching her learn the world. Gone. 

She was gone. 

And it was his fault.

_No, Erik, it's not._

_I'm sorry, Charles, but you'll never convince me otherwise._ Erik sat up and wiped away his tears, pulling himself together. _Will you tell Jean to come back please? I'd like to get this work finished._

_Fine, Erik. But we will revisit this later._

_There is nothing to revisit, Charles. I know what I've done better than you._

Erik closed his eyes and, just as Charles had taught him twenty years ago, forced Charles out of his mind. The faint presence was still there when he opened his eyes, their minds were still tethered, but Charles was gone, and Erik was alone with his thoughts again.

When Jean came walking towards him a few minutes later, Erik had a smile on his face. “So, any other things you saw in my head that you want to talk about?”

Jean smiled. “Well, I'd kind of love to hear about the submarine.”

Erik laughed as he levitated them once more. “Alright, I'll tell you about the submarine.”


	8. Chapter 8

Erik was lying on the floor in his room, the room that had always been his room ever since he'd first arrived at the mansion, the room that Charles had told him in his mind that no one else had ever slept in. 

He didn't know how to feel about that.

He had his eyes closed despite the darkness that surrounded him, a vision of Nina talking to her deer friends playing through his mind. A coin weaved in and out through his fingers, something to do with his mutation but not something too strenuous. Charles had been furious when he realized how tired Erik was, how overstretched he felt, after finishing the rebuild of the mansion, and had ordered him straight to lie down and rest. 

If Erik wasn't so exhausted, he would have argued. Instead, he just went up to his room and laid on the floor. 

He froze when he felt gentle hands on his head, lifting it up and sliding something soft underneath it before gently laying it back down. He opened his eyes to see a shock of white in the middle of the darkness, and he reached up to grab Ororo's wrist before she pulled away completely. “Hey. Been wondering where you were.”

“Didn't seem like you needed the company,” Ororo said, shifting around until she was sitting on the floor next to him. “You've had a pretty loyal bunch following you around.”

“Yeah, it's been hard to shake them,” Erik said, glancing to his side. “Pillow? Where did you get a pillow?”

“Mystique's first round of purchases arrived today. Everybody's got pillows now. Thought you might like one.”

“Today?” Erik asked, confused. “It was nearly ten o'clock at night when I came up here.”

“Yeah, you've been asleep for two days,” Ororo said, smiling at him. “Charles...The Professor, he said that we should just let you sleep. You did so much work to rebuild this place, Erik. Metal beams, nails, wiring. Hank's been working on the rest of the wiring, by the way. We should have working electricity by the end of the day. And Mystique's got the rest of the kids working on assembling beds. I don't know if you'll end up with one today, because she said the Professor was priority number one and then Peter was priority number two and then the students were priority number three, but you'll get one soon.”

Erik laughed. “The Professor, huh?”

“I have never been properly educated,” Ororo said. “And I would like to be. Plus, I feel a depth to my powers that I never felt before. I am afraid of using them to their full potential. The Professor said he would help me with that.”

“Charles is definitely a good man for that,” Erik said, taking a deep breath. “Charles is a good man period. He will lead you well.”

“What about you?” Ororo asked softly. “I am not sure I want to stay if you do not.”

Erik rolled over onto his side and tucked his pillow under his head. “Ororo, I am not the kind of person who you want to follow. I'm a horrible, awful man who does horrible, awful things. I don't want to lead you down that path.”

“The Professor says you are a good man,” Ororo said. “Mystique too. They just say you don't realize it.”

“I wasn't lying on those rocks,” Erik said. “Anything good that Charles thought was left in me was buried with my family.”

Except they didn't get a burial, they were just left in the bed he had shared with his wife, both of them looking like they were sleeping.

“I know better than to believe that,” Ororo murmured. “You would not have done everything you have done here if there was not some good in you.”

Erik sighed. “I don't know why I am doing what I am doing. But I would not say that it is because there is good in me.”

“Oh, alright,” Ororo said, shaking her head. “Has Mystique told you about the team she wants to put together?”

“I have heard a little bit about the X-Men, yes,” Erik said. “But not much.”

“She wants me to be a part of it, if I stay,” Ororo said, smiling. “My idol wants me to be a part of a select team that she is training. It is almost enough to make me stay without another thought.”

“Raven is training the team?” Erik laughed. “She certainly has changed her tune.”

“Raven?”

“Her name,” Erik said. “The way that my name is Erik but also Magneto, her name is Raven but also Mystique. She and the first group of kids, the first group of X-Men, I guess, they came up with our code names.”

“I want a code name,” Ororo said, thinking about it. “I bet one will come to me once I train up more with my powers. I have a feeling I can do more than just call down lightning now.”

“Maybe you can control all of the weather,” Erik said. “Maybe you can create storms.”

“Oooh, Storm,” Ororo said. “I like the sound of that. Storm. I could totally be Storm. Hopefully my mutation will go along with that.”

“You should stay here,” Erik said. “Let Charles and Raven teach you, guide you. You'll become greater than you'll ever know.” 

“You say that with such confidence,” Ororo pointed out. “Why is that?”

Erik let himself get lost in nostalgia for a moment, then pulled himself back to the present. “Because Charles once taught me how to use the depth of my powers, and I became greater than I ever knew I could be. And while I'm here, I might need him to do that again. But not until he's well. And he's far from well.”

“He seems a lot better,” Ororo said.

“He is,” Erik said. “Physically at least. He's trying to pretend he's better mentally, but I know him better than he thinks I do. He's not much better mentally than he was when we first got here.”

“You have mental conversations with him,” Ororo said, the fact just dawning on her. “That's so cool.”

“Stick around here and I'm sure someday you'll hear his voice inside your mind,” Erik murmured. “Same with Jean's probably.”

“Jean is nice,” Ororo said. “Scott, Kurt, Jubilee, and Jean have taken me into their group and made me feel welcome. Plus Peter's pretty excellent. He was glad I was able to help with his leg in Cairo.”

“I'm glad you're making friends,” Erik said. “Friends are important. Friends can turn into family. Family is even more important.”

“You have friends here,” Ororo said. “You also have family here.”

“No,” Erik said, shaking his head. “I really don't.”

“Then you are blind,” Ororo said, smiling at him. “The Professor, Mystique, they care a lot about you. And I care about you too.”

Erik smiled as he sat up, stretching out his muscles. “Alright, maybe I have some people here who care about me. That still doesn't mean I'm staying.”

“But you'll think about it?” Ororo asked.

“If I say that, will you stop pestering me about it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'll think about it.”

Ororo grinned. “The Professor is in the entry way with Peter. You might want to go see them before going to help again.”

Erik nodded and Ororo got up and left the room. Erik stretched some more before getting up and walking into the en suite, testing out the shower to see if there was running water yet. When the stream of water came rushing out of the shower head, he smiled, closing the en suite's door and stripping off. He got into the shower and washed himself off, knowing that he was covered in dirt and grime. He stood with his head under the spray, letting it beat down upon the back of his head, when the old, familiar voice came drifting through his mind.

_Erik,_ Charles said, _you're home._

Erik thought about it for a moment, taking a shower in his shower, in his en suite, in his room. Yeah, he was home.

_Yes, Charles. I am._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick note: a member of my family was moved to hospice today and given his last rites, so my family and i are playing a waiting game we don't want to play and are grieving over the soon-to-be loss of a beloved member of the family. if i do not update for several days, this is why. it is not because i have abandoned this story. I will return to it once i feel i can write again. thank you.

He doesn't know why he considers the mansion to be home. He spent such little time there in 1962, and then he left for what he thought would be for good. But if Erik really allows himself time to think about it, he knows that when they left for Cuba that day, he had every intention of coming back. He'd found a place that felt like it could be home, with people that felt like he could call family, with a man who seemed to make him a better one. It was home. It was the closest thing to home he'd had since he'd been marched into Auschwitz. 

But he did leave that day in 1962 and he hadn't been back until a week ago. Some of the people he thought could be family were still here; the rest were dead, and they were dead because he'd failed them. The man who seemed to make him a better one was still here, but Erik had met a woman who made him a better man, who showed him that there was beauty in being human. Magda had stolen his heart from the very first moment he saw her, and she was the reason he lived in the shadows, she was the reason he'd become Henryk. He would have done anything to keep that beautiful smile on her face, the one that only increased in beauty once Nina was born. He would have stayed Henryk for the rest of his life if that was what it took.

But Madga was gone, and so was Nina. And that beautiful smile was something he would never see again except in his memories. He wasn't in the shadows anymore, he was back at that place from 1962, with the man who seemed to make him a better man. But how could he possibly return to the way his relationship with Charles once was when all he wanted was his wife and daughter back? 

The answer, he knew, was that he couldn't.

But he couldn't stay away from Charles either.

Raven had the students working like Erik had in the factory. Everyone had a job, everyone worked from the end of breakfast until lunch, and then from the end of lunch until dinner, and there were a few breaks in between. Hank had gotten the wiring finished, so there was electricity to go along with the running water. Raven had gone to a grocery store at some point, and she cooked dinner every night, which everyone ate on paper plates with plastic utensils because she hadn't yet gotten around to ordering new china and silverware. 

Erik wanted to help but Raven said he had done more than enough in putting the mansion back together, and so he was on official rest. Charles agreed with this, and because of that, Erik knew he'd never win the argument he wanted to have. Instead, he sat down on a step of the grand staircase in the entry way and looked over at Charles and Peter. They were sitting in chairs, Peter with his leg elevated, listening to the sounds of everyone else working away. 

“You're looking better,” he said to Charles. “But I know better than that.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I am healing quite well.” _How the hell could you tell?_

_I know your mind better than you think. It feels so dark still, so pained._ “Fine, ignore what I'm talking about. What about you, Peter? How is the leg?”

“The leg is the most annoying thing in the fucking world,” Peter exclaimed. “Like, I need to run, okay? Even if it was nothing more than just around the room. It's just building up inside of me and I feel like I'm going to burst if I don't get to run soon.”

“I know the feeling,” Erik said, laughing slightly. “When I was in the cell at the Pentagon, I couldn't really use mine. And it just grew and grew and grew inside me. I'm pretty sure that's why I had the power to lift the stadium and float it over the city to the White House. I don't think I actually knew the depth of my mutation enough then to really do that.”

“Well, you knew something, because that day is like a day that lives in infamy, my friend,” Charles said. “They teach students about it in schools now. Scott was in the middle of a lesson about it when his mutation manifested.”

Erik sighed and put his head in his hands. “Of course they do. I was wondering why Raven was so many of theirs' idol.”

“I'm surprised she's still here,” Charles admitted. “But she seems to have decided that helping my students is the best thing to do now.”

“You're lucky to have her,” Erik said. “She's very good at what she does.”

“Well, she learned from an expert,” Charles said, a hint of anger in his voice. “I am sure you trained her well.”

“She made her choice, Charles. I didn't make it for her,” Erik countered, anger creeping into his voice. “You cannot blame me for that.”

“She never thought that way until you came around and put those thoughts in her head,” Charles said, voice full of anger now. “You took her away from me. You left and you took her too.”

“I may have left, but she left of her own accord,” Erik said, practically shouting. “And if you need clarification on that, ask Raven herself.”

“No thank you,” Charles said bitterly. “I would rather not hear about the details of your relationship with my sister.”

“My relationship with your sister? You really think I would do that?” Erik asked, laughing. “You don't know me at all if you think I did that.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Peter said, drawing their attention to him. “I have no idea what just happened there, but can you guys chill out? We went from totally cool to major hatred in like zero point nine seconds there. I'd like to get back to totally chill. I mean, you're friends. Why else would Magneto be here if you two weren't friends?”

Erik sighed and leaned back against the stairs, not caring about how uncomfortable it was. “If you want the truth, talk to Raven. But I'm not lying to you, and you know it.”

Charles swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “We can save that for another day. For now, we will be totally chill, as Peter said. After all, we are friends, are we not?”

Erik laid there for a moment before sitting back up and looking straight at Charles. “Of course we are. We always have been, and we always will be.”

Charles's eyes warmed with emotion and Erik found it hard to breathe, not from love, but from guilt. He broke their gaze and covered his face with his hands, Magda's beautiful smile echoing through his mind. He loved her. He was still in love with her. He knew that without even having to think about it. 

But there was some sort of feeling there for Charles as well. There always had been. It used to be love but in the years that had passed it had died down into something he couldn't express. But it was building again, now that he was in Charles's presence, now that their minds were tethered together again, now that he was in the place that he considered to be home. It wasn't love, but he didn't know what it was either. 

His conversation with Jean came back to him. She said that people could love more than one person at the same time. Maybe that was what was happening. Maybe he was slowly starting to love Charles again.

Just the idea of that made his heart break all over again and made the guilt consume him.

_Relax, Erik,_ came Charles's voice. _You're home._

Yeah, he was home, and it was tearing him apart.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my thanks to all of you for your patience in waiting for this chapter. it is extremely difficult to write about deep grief when you yourself are experiencing deep grief, and so i have struggled with this chapter for many days now. hopefully this has restarted the creative process and more chapters will be coming in the days ahead. i would not expect one every day though. i don't think i'm ready for that yet.

“You want to get out of here for awhile?” 

Erik looked away from the ceiling to see Raven standing in his doorway. “Am I not on house arrest?”

“Oh for fuck's sake, Erik, stop being so ridiculous,” Raven said, walking into his room and turning on the light. “Get your ass up, get off the bed, and put on some shoes. You're coming with me to the city.”

“And why are we going to the city?” Erik asked as he swung his legs to the side and got himself into a sitting position.

“Well, I don't know about you, but I need to get away from children for awhile,” Raven said. “But basically everyone here has one set of clothes to wear and while there are a few shops in Westchester, there are not enough to replace everyone's wardrobes with. So I'm going shopping in the city and I want you to come with me.”

Erik sighed heavily. “You want me – internationally wanted terrorist me – to go shopping with you in New York City? Raven, I know you're intelligent, so don't tell me you don't see the major flaw in this plan.”

“We're not the only ones going,” Raven said. “Your young telepath friend promises me that she can keep you hidden from everyone's sight. Only one who will be able to see you will be us.”

“Us?”

“Me, you, Jean, Scott, Kurt, and Jubilee. I do need some of the kids to tell me what kids want to wear. I'm not exactly an expert on children's clothing.”

Erik started to say that he could help with that before the mere thought of Nina choked him up and brought tears to his eyes. He covered his eyes and tried hard not to let the emotion overwhelm him but the sob came anyway, and before he knew it, the bed beside him was dipping down and a soft hand was rubbing his shoulder gently.

“It's alright, Erik,” Raven soothed. “I didn't realize that I was saying something that would trigger a memory.”

Erik sniffled several times before letting out a hollow laugh. “Neither did I.”

“Come on,” Raven said, squeezing his shoulder. “I think getting out of here for awhile will do you some good.”

“Perhaps you're right,” Erik said, looking over at her.

A big smile crossed Raven's face. “Of course I am. Now come on, put on your shoes and meet us at the garage.”

Erik just nodded as Raven got up and left, then searched the room for where he'd last put his shoes. Once he'd found them, he sat down to put them on only to feel another presence in the room. He looked up and found Charles in his doorway, and he sighed heavily. They hadn't really spoken to one another since the argument three days previous, and Erik didn't even know where to begin.

“You do not have to begin, my old friend. I feel that it is I that should do that,” Charles said, wheeling himself into the room. “Shut the door?”

Erik swung the door shut and then went back to tying his shoes. “Your sister is waiting for me in the garage.”

“She's been told you will be a few moments more than expected,” Charles said, coming to a stop in front of him. “Erik, I'm sorry about what I said. I know deep down that you never would have that kind of relationship with my sister, even if you did try to imply it to me on the plane to Paris.”

“I don't know why I did that,” Erik said, finishing up his laces and putting his foot back on the floor. “Probably because I knew you couldn't look inside my head and know that it was bullshit. I still wanted to punish you back then.”

“Punish me for what?”

“Letting me rot in that cell in the Pentagon for a decade,” Erik said. “Though I realize now that you thought that I completely and totally deserved to be there. But on that plane, I was just so angry with you for abandoning me. I think that even though we were playing nice, I still wanted to hurt you somehow.”

“And I probably deserved that,” Charles said, sighing heavily. “How did we ever let things between us get so fucked up, Erik?”

“I put a bullet in your spine.”

“On accident.”

“Still did it.” Erik let his head hang down between his shoulders. “Charles, what we had back then...it was special. But I don't know if I...”

“Oh Erik, I'm not asking you to make that decision now,” Charles said firmly. “If friendship is all you can ever give me again, then I will be perfectly satisfied with friendship. I just want you in my life, Erik. We've spent the better part of twenty years away from each other, and I haven't liked it.”

“Would you be mad if I said I haven't thought about you much in the last decade?”

“Not at all,” Charles said. “You had them. It would make sense that all of your focus and energy was spent on them, much as how my focus and energy has been spent on the school.”

“But you still thought of me.”

“Erik, you're the best friend I've ever had. Please don't tell Hank I said that,” Charles said, making Erik chuckle. “Of course I thought of you from time to time. Wondered where you were and how you were doing. You went entirely too quiet for your reputation after the White House incident.”

“So you were waiting for me to cause trouble.”

“Quite frankly, yes,” Charles said. “And you can't be mad at me for thinking that way.”

“I'm not,” Erik said, finally looking up. “I wish you could have known them, Charles. Magda would have loved you, and I think Nina would have flourished under your tutelage. I tried to teach her the best I could, but she always had control issues. She never could control it.”

“I'm sure I would have loved them,” Charles said. “But you have to remember that you'll always have them in your heart and your soul.”

“That doesn't change the fact that my babies are gone and it's all my fault,” Erik said, tears welling up in his eyes again. “Fuck, am I ever going to be able to think about them without crying?”

“You will get to that point,” Charles said, moving a little closer and reaching out, wiping away a stray fallen tear. “Right now, crying is good. It means you're not letting your grief bottle up inside of you. And I will always let you cry when you need to.”

“Well, right now I need to get my shit together because apparently we're going to the city and Jean's going to keep me from being seen,” Erik said, pulling back from Charles's touch. “Can she actually do that?”

“Oh yes,” Charles said, wheeling himself away. “She's quite adept at it. I foresee no problems.”

“Well, that's good to know,” Erik said, standing up. “Charles?”

“Yes, Erik?”

“I won't accept your apology because I owe you one too, so let's just call it even?”

Charles smiled at him, one of those big grins that used to make Erik weak in the knees. It didn't anymore. “Even it is. I'll see you when you get back.”


	11. Chapter 11

Raven was sitting in the passenger seat of the station wagon, giving Scott tips on his driving skills. Kurt and Jubilee were sitting in the back seat, talking back and forth about the fabulous things that were malls. And Erik and Jean were in the third seat, the one that had to be bolted into the back of the station wagon, that faced in the opposite direction, with a lot of shopping bags stuffed in around them. Erik was uncomfortable back there, staring right into the eyes of the driver behind them, but Jean assured him that no one could see him or hear him but them.

“How is that possible?” Erik eventually asked, as they slowly left the city. “Isn't it difficult to control so many minds at the same time?”

“No,” Jean said seriously. “I mean, the Professor worries about how easily it comes for me. He said it came easily to him after some practice, but it doesn't really take me any practice to be able to do it. I feel so many minds, Erik. I feel people miles and miles away.”

Erik shifted around so he could hide himself a little more. “So how do you block it all out?”

“I have a hard time with that,” Jean admitted. “When I'm at school, it's a little easier because I have stuff to concentrate on like my studies, but ever since this whole thing with Apocalypse went down, I've had a hard time controlling it. It's one of the reasons I know everything about you with such ease.”

“That's why you're so eager for your lessons with Charles to resume,” Erik said, nodding. “I understand. But if you ever want someone to practice on, you can practice on me.”

Jean brightened. “Really? You mean it?”

“I do,” Erik said, shrugging. “It's not like you're going to learn anything you haven't already.”

“I really am sorry about that,” Jean said, her smile fading. “I know it wasn't right.”

Erik laughed. “It's alright. It's no different than what Charles did to me when we met.”

Jean's smile turned into a frown. “He didn't ask permission?”

“I don't think Charles was too concerned with permission at that moment as much as he was with stopping me from drowning,” Erik said, chuckling. “You obviously haven't really looked at that memory very much.”

“Apparently not,” Jean said, leaning back in her seat. “Tell me? I'm curious now.”

Erik sighed. “I was going after the man who turned me into Frankenstein's monster. I'm sure you've seen those memories.”

“They come up every time you're in so much agony. I don't think you even realize you bring them up.”

“No, but that makes sense. That's the only time I've been in as much pain as I am now,” Erik said, grief welling up in him again. He closed his eyes and forced it down, not wanting to suffer through a moment of it while he was in the car with the other kids. “Anyway, I was chasing him down.”

“Erik, it's okay.”

“No, it's not.”

“It really is.”

Erik felt tears well up in his eyes as a memory of Magda drew up in his mind, one of the first dinners they ever had together, one of the first moments when he realized he loved her more than anything. He let out a sniffle as a couple of tears started to flow down his cheeks, and then he felt two fingers on his temple and a soothing thought wash over him. He opened his eyes to see Jean staring at him, and another soothing thought passed through him. “Is this ever going to end? Am I ever going to be able to think of them without feeling like this?”

“I believe you will,” Jean said, moving her fingers away. “I believe that you will learn to remember them without drowning yourself in grief.”

Erik reached up and wiped away his tears, shaking his head to clear it. “Alright, so the story.”

“We don't have to if you don't want to,” Jean said.

“No, it's fine,” Erik said, sighing. “So I found him on this yacht in Florida, and I was going to kill him. But he had other mutants there, and I got thrown into the water. Well, then this huge military ship comes sailing towards the yacht, and so he goes and escapes in the submarine with the other mutants.”

“That's where the submarine came from!” Jean exclaimed.

Erik chuckled. “That's where the submarine came from. Anyway, Charles sensed me in the water, dove in, and while I was trying to stop the submarine and pretty much drowning in the process, he grabbed me, started calling me by my name, and eventually convinced me to get out of the water and onto the ship. By the time we got to talking, it was obvious he knew everything.”

“Wow. I can't believe the Professor did that,” Jean said, a strange look on her face. “He's so strict about the ethics of going into another person's mind.”

“He's grown up since then. He was still a bit of a rakish lad when I first met him,” Erik laughed. “He used to hit on co-eds at Oxford with pickup lines about genetic mutations about their hair color or eye color. Then he'd read their minds to find out what they wanted to drink and order it for them, impressing them for guessing what they'd like to drink. He was quite a bit different back then.”

Jean laughed. “I can't imagine the Professor like that. He's so serious.”

“Everyone was younger once. Twenty years changes a person a lot. Especially with what he's been through during those twenty years.”

“Yeah, I imagine losing the ability to walk would put your life into a different perspective,” Jean said, frowning slightly. “He doesn't blame you for that, by the way.” Erik turned and looked behind him at the kids, but Jean put a hand on his arm. “They can't hear us.”

Erik looked over at her and she nodded, so he took a deep breath. “He should. I will always blame myself for that.”

“It wasn't your fault.”

“I directed a bullet into his spine. How was that not my fault?”

Jean sighed. “Moira was shooting at you. You were doing what you had to do to keep from being shot. You didn't know where the Professor was, and you had no intention of injuring him, especially not to the depth that he was. It's not your fault.”

“We are never going to agree on that,” Erik said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. “Ever. I know what I did. I know the guilt I need to carry for it. Nothing you say will change that.”

Jean just shook her head. “And you wonder why you drown in grief. You don't know how to let go of it. You don't know how to properly grieve.”

“Maybe I don't. Ever since I was a child, I've been set on revenge. Revenge for my parents, revenge for me. Revenge, revenge, revenge. And then I stopped and settled down with Magda, and look what happened. Death follows me everywhere I go. Death, death, and more death.”

“Erik, you can't think about it in that way.”

“Why not?” Erik snapped. “It's the truth. You know it's the truth. You've seen it. You've seen everything. You don't believe me? Look again. Look, Jean. It's all there. Death. It's like a cloud hanging over me that I cannot shake.”

Jean reached out and put two fingers on Erik's temple, but instead of pulling up the memories from Auschwitz or Cuba or Dallas or anywhere else, a memory of Nina as a toddler flashed behind his eyes. Erik's eyes filled with tears instantly, but he didn't settle into the deep grief that he was expecting. 

And so he watched little Nina out in the woods behind their house, organizing rabbits to play a game that he didn't understand, and he yearned to see his daughter again, yearned to hold her in his arms. But he didn't cry. And he didn't lose himself in grief. 

And when Jean pulled her fingers away and the memory faded, Erik blinked a few times before his eyes focused on Jean. “What just happened?”

“I showed you that there's been more than death in your life,” Jean said, giving him a soft smile. “And I showed you that you'll be able to handle it someday without me there to keep you from settling into your grief.”

Erik stared at her for a moment before shaking his head and letting out a soft chuckle. “You're older than your years, you know that?”

“It comes with the telepathy,” Jean said, settling back into her seat. “The Professor says it's because you have to have an old soul to deal with hearing so much pain.”

“I think I'm understanding more by the minute why Charles thinks so highly of you,” Erik said. “You're kindred spirits. And I'm not just saying that because you're both telepaths.”

“You and the Professor are kindred spirits too,” Jean said, turning around to stare out the back of the car. “And so are you and I.”

“You think, huh?” Erik said, settling back into his seat. “I think I might agree with you on that.”


	12. Chapter 12

"Erik?" came the sound of Charles's voice, and Erik turned to see him sitting on the edge of the patio. "May I join you?"

Instead of answering, Erik just levitated Charles's wheelchair over to where he was sitting in the grass. "Shouldn't you be inside supervising whatever it is Raven has the children doing today?"

"Well, yes, but I've got your answer and I thought it best to discuss it away from all the children while they're too busy to notice that we're not there."

Erik turned to look at Charles with some confusion. "My answer?"

"You did ask me to look into Kurt's parentage," Charles reminded him. "And I finally was able to without her noticing it."

"You looked inside Raven's head," Erik said with realization. "And she didn't notice?"

"I did it while she was sleeping," Charles said. "That way she could just think the memories I looked at were a dream. And after what I found there, I looked inside Kurt's mind to confirm it. Erik, you are one hundred percent correct. Kurt is Raven and Azazel's son."

Erik ran his hands over his face and let out an angry groan. "Well now I want to kill her."

"I won't allow you to do that. However, I do sympathize with the feeling. I'm not particularly pleased with my sister at the moment."

"What do we do now, Charles?"

"You do nothing. I'll formulate a way to bring this up with her and see how she reacts to it. I won't be telling her I got into her head though. She'd probably kill me for that."

Erik ran his hands over his face again and sighed when he felt a hand clasp onto his shoulder. "Charles, I feel like I'm lost in the middle of the ocean and there's no land anywhere in sight and I can't swim. Jean thinks it's because I've never learned how to grieve. I'm starting to think she might be right. Ever since Auschwitz, my goal has never been to grieve and move on, it's been to exact revenge. Maybe I need to take some time to realize that vengeance isn't the answer."

"I've tried to tell you that since the day we met," Charles said softly. "But I must say, I agree with Jean. I don't think you know how to properly grieve. I think it would be wise to settle down in one place for awhile and finally face all the grief that you suffer with. And I know that Jean would be more than willing to help with that."

"What about you?" Erik asked after a moment. "Are you not willing?"

"Oh, I'm more than willing," Charles said. "I'm just not sure that you'd be open to my way of helping."

Erik looked over at Charles to find him staring at him with a warm gaze. "And what is your way?"

"I think you need someone to love you," Charles said tenderly. "You need someone to hold you at night. You've never been good at being alone, Erik. Being alone brings out the worst in you."

Erik swallowed hard and took a deep breath, letting Charles's words play though his mind. Deep down, he knew Charles was right. Being alone had always led to thoughts of vengeance and nothing but pain. Wasn't that why being with Charles had been so wonderful in the first place? Charles had made him realize there was more to life than pain, until he'd gone and fucked it up beyond belief. He'd found that sense of belonging again with Magda, and that had ended up with him getting her and their precious daughter killed. 

"I deserve to be alone."

"No, you don't," Charles said, squeezing Erik's shoulder. "I realize now that I've never done this, so I have something to say and you're going to listen to it without interruption, understood?"

Erik nodded. "Alright."

"That day in Cuba, there on the beach, it changed my life, Erik. When I returned home, I couldn't walk up the stairs to my room or down the hallway to my father's study. There was no more standing on my tip-toes to reach something in a high up cabinet or stretching my legs out on the sofa to lie down for a nap. It was completely and totally different."

Erik brought a hand up to cover his eyes as Charles paused, biting his tongue to stop himself from interrupting him. God, how he longed to express how deeply sorry he was and how he would carry the guilt around for the rest of his life.

And then Charles said, "But the thing I missed the most when I got home to this new, changed life was you," and Erik couldn't bite his tongue any longer.

"Charles, don't be so fucking ridiculous!" Erik exclaimed. "I put you in that wheelchair! I took away the stairs and the tip-toes and the stretching out on the sofa! I did all of that! You can't tell me that you missed me more than your legs. You just can't."

Charles sighed. "As I was saying, the thing I missed the most was you. I don't think you've ever fully understood the effect you had on me. I was drifting through life thinking I was better than everyone else because I had the upper hand thanks to my telepathy. Then suddenly here you are and you're an equal and you're telling me to stay out of your head and suddenly I don't have the upper hand anymore. And it made you endlessly fascinating, and for some reason, you found me fascinating too. 

"You changed my life more than losing my legs ever will. I never thought I would find what I found with you, but I did. You are the only person I will ever say the words I love you to and actually truly mean it. And I know it's not the same for you, but that's okay. I would never take away what you felt for Magda and Nina. That's an essential part of who you are now. But I just want you to know that I can love that part of you too. And if we never get any further than this conversation, then that's okay."

"Charles, this is motherfucking absurd."

"There is only one thing left that I want to say," Charles said, going on as though he hadn't heard Erik's interruption. "I forgive you for what happened in Cuba. I know you didn't mean to injure me, I know you didn't mean to paralyze me, and I think I know how hard it was for you to walk away from me like that. So I forgive you for all of it."

Erik looked over at Charles in bewilderment. "You forgive me?"

"Of course I do," Charles said. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Now I think you need some time to yourself to process everything I've had to say, so if you could return me to the patio, I'll leave you to it."

Erik stared at Charles for a moment before lifting the wheelchair off the ground and floating it over to the patio. He set it down gently and then watched as Charles went back into the mansion. Erik turned his gaze away from the building and back out onto the woods behind it. 

Charles loved him. That he already knew.

But Charles _forgave_ him. 

He had absolutely no idea how to handle that information, let alone how to begin to process it. 

Maybe a walk in the woods would help. 

Maybe.

Probably not, but he was going to do it anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

“So I understand you're looking for your father.”

Peter dropped the can of soda he was holding and turned around as fast as he could with his crutches, finding Erik standing behind him. “Um,” he said, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Something like that.”

“Is he close?” Erik said, walking into the kitchen, using his powers to lift the can of soda off of the floor and into the trash. “You want another soda?”

Peter nodded shakily. “Sure. And um, yeah, you could say that he's close.”

Erik retrieved a couple of cans of soda from the refrigerator and brought one over to Peter. “Is the leg keeping you from going to see him?”

Peter grabbed the can of soda and opened it quickly, bringing it up to his lips and drinking as much as he could to stall for time. He did not want to have _this_ conversation with his _actual father_. He took a deep breath once he brought the can away from his lips and let his eyes meet Erik's. “It's not helping, that's for sure.”

“I could drive you,” Erik said, opening his can and taking a quick drink. “I kind of need to get out of here.”

“It's three a.m.,” Peter pointed out. 

“I know,” Erik said, taking another drink. “It's hard to explain.”

“Tell me about it,” Peter muttered before raising his voice. “Well, if you want to go for a drive, I'll go with you. I'm sick of sitting on my ass all day.”

Erik chuckled. “I can imagine that's very difficult.”

“You have no idea, man,” Peter said, taking another swig of his drink. “My leg in this cast feels like I've cut off a limb. Not being able to use my ability sucks.”

“I do have some idea,” Erik said. “There wasn't any metal in that cell. The magnetic fields were weak for some reason. They must have done something to disrupt them. I could barely levitate myself above the ground. It was horrific, to be honest.”

Peter stared at Erik for a moment before setting his can down on the counter. “Let's go for that drive, hm?”

Erik looked up at him and saw earnestness in Peter's eyes, so he nodded. “Alright.”

They made their way to the garage and found the keys to one of the cars, and then Erik was driving them out of the grounds of the school. They rode in silence for awhile before Peter decided to break it.

“How long were you in the cell? They never told me.”

“Almost ten years,” Erik said, taking a deep breath. “Like I said, it was horrific.”

Peter closed his eyes and he felt his heart break. If only he had known Erik was his father sooner, he could have found some way to get him out of there earlier. “I'm sorry.”

Erik glanced over at him. “For what?”

“For not getting you out of there sooner.”

Erik laughed. “Don't apologize for that. Charles had every right to believe that I belonged there. Besides, you had no idea that I existed. Charles told me they kept my arrest and imprisonment as quiet as they could.”

“My mother knew,” Peter said softly. “She knew who you were the moment she saw you on television at the White House.”

Erik glanced over at him again. “Well, you did live in D.C.. I suppose that things like my imprisonment would have been on the news there more than other parts of the country.”

Peter longed to tell him that that wasn't what he met, but he held his tongue. “Yeah, something like that.”

“I am just thankful that you were there when you were,” Erik said. “I never have said thank you for that, have I? It may not have been your plan, but you're the one who made it happen. Thank you, Peter.”

Peter swallowed hard and blinked rapidly as a few tears came to his eyes. “You're welcome,” he got out before turning his head away so Erik couldn't see his face. 

“So tell me about yourself,” Erik said, settling back into the driver's seat and slowly increasing the speed as they got onto the highway just past Westchester. “I don't know too much about you.”

“What do you want to know?” Peter asked, reaching up to wipe away the last of the tears before turning back to look at Erik. “I don't really know what to say.”

“When did you get your powers?”

Peter sighed. “I can't actually answer that. I think I was kind of born with them. My hair has always been silver, and the doctors were totally baffled by that. Mom said everything I did was fast when I was young, but not fast like I am now. I think I just sort of built up. By the time that I was ten, I could run so fast no one could see me.”

“Interesting,” Erik said, looking over at him. “I'm sure Charles finds that fascinating.”

“We've never really had that conversation,” Peter said honestly. “Most of the conversations we've had have either been about breaking you out of the Pentagon or about my father.”

“You don't like talking about your father, do you?” Erik asked. “You seem very hesitant to talk about him with me.”

_That's because you are him,_ Peter thought. “It's not easy,” he said aloud. “He's got no idea that I exist, and I'm not sure he really wants to know that he has family out there.”

“I think everyone would want to know they have family,” Erik said, his throat tightening as Magda and Nina flashed before his eyes. “I think I would be doing a lot better right now if I had my family beside me.”

“You do,” Peter said honestly, then followed up with, “The Professor and Mystique and Hank. Everyone at the school really. They're all your family. Mutant brothers and sisters, right?”

Erik looked over at Peter again. “Mutant brothers and sisters are not the same thing as the family I had, or the family I think you're longing for.”

“I know,” Peter said, sighing. “But you do have family.” _I'm your family._

“Jean tried to tell me that they're still with me, that they'll always be with me, but they feel so far away,” Erik said, staring out at the road in front of them. “My beautiful babies, lying there in our bed. They looked like they were sleeping, you know? That's the last image I have of them. I didn't even bury them in the ground, just left them there in the bed. The police probably think that I killed them too, but I would never have harmed them. I protect my family with everything I have.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the trees go by as Erik drove down the old two-lane highway, headlights bright in front of them. A deer was on the left side of the road up ahead, and the moment Erik saw it, the tears came. He slammed on the brakes, jerking Peter as forward as his seatbelt would allow him to go, and when Peter recovered from the pain, he looked over at Erik to find him sobbing.

“Erik?”

“She used to talk to deer,” Erik got out. “She used to play games with them in the woods behind the house. There were four or five of them that were her friends.”

Peter looked at him confused until he saw movement in front of the car and looked to see a deer standing there in the headlights. He flicked his eyes between the deer and Erik as his brain tried to process what was happening and come up with a solution to get Erik calmed down and get them back on the road. After a few minutes, the solution suddenly came to him, and he practically jumped in his seat. 

“It's a sign!” Peter exclaimed. “The deer, Erik! It's a sign from your daughter. It's letting you know that she's here with you.”

Erik stilled, and after a few moments, he looked up at the deer. The deer was just standing there, staring at the car, and Erik stared back at it until he felt a wave of calm pass over him. Nina. It was a message from his beloved Nina. 

“Nina,” he whispered, “Nina, you're here.”

The deer stayed there for another couple of moments until there was a loud crack from somewhere in the trees and the deer went running off. Erik sucked in a couple of deep breaths and eventually turned to face Peter. “She was here. You were right, it was a sign.”

“I totally think it was,” Peter said, reaching out to put a hand on Erik's shoulder. “And like, Jean's right. They're always with you. They always will be.”

Erik nodded and reached up, wiping the remnants of his tears away. “I'm sorry about that.”

“Hey, there's no need to be sorry,” Peter said seriously. “Like, I totally get that you need to go through this. Grief hits you in weird ways at weird times. Sometimes I still think of my grandfather and get all misty-eyed because he's not here anymore, and he died when I was six. It's just the way grief works.”

“Maybe you're right,” Erik said, taking a deep breath and starting to drive again. “You still up for the drive or do you want to go back?”

“I'm totally up for the drive,” Peter said, shifting around in his seat. “Just, no more talk about my father, alright?”

“Alright,” Erik said, glancing over at him. “But if you ever want some help in getting to him, I'll be glad to help you with it.”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled. “I'll remember that.”


	14. Chapter 14

“You decided if you're going to stay yet?”

Erik turned around to see Ororo standing behind him, arms crossed over her chest. “No, I haven't.”

“You really should,” she said, walking over to stand next to him, looking out the window he had been staring out. “You're protective of them.”

Erik turned his gaze back to the window and looked down upon where Jean, Scott, and Jubilee were trying to teach Kurt how to play basketball, Peter shouting out tips from a chair on the sideline. “No, I'm not.”

“You don't have to lie to me, Erik,” Ororo said, shaking her head. “Why is it so difficult for you to admit that you have attachments here?” 

“Why is it that you persistently think that I have attachments here?” Erik snapped, then sighed heavily. “Sorry.”

“No, you're not,” Ororo said, leaning up against the wall. “Erik, The Professor is your friend. Hank is your friend. Mystique is your friend. You're protective of me, and you're protective of them. You helped rebuild this entire place. Come on, this can't be that difficult.”

Erik sighed again and ran his hands over his face. “I would not call Hank or even Raven my friend, first of all. Secondly, so what if I've helped rebuild this place or have gotten a little protective of some kids? That doesn't mean I'm attached.”

“They're your friends,” Ororo insisted. “And it means a lot to the people here that you've done what you've done. It means a lot to me that you're protective of me and my friends.”

“That doesn't make an attachment.”

“Erik, why are you so stubborn?”

“Because he doesn't know how to be anything else,” came Charles's voice, and they both turned to see him wheeling himself down the hallway. “Ororo, could you give me a chance to speak to Erik alone?”

“Of course,” Ororo said, pushing away from the wall. “I'll go down to the basketball court.”

Charles came to a stop near Erik and waited until Ororo had disappeared around a corner before looking over at him. “I tried to get you to come to my study.”

“I told you I'd come later.”

“I told you this was important.”

“And I told you I'd come later,” Erik said, turning his gaze back to the window. “What could possibly be so important?”

Charles took a deep breath. “Moira is coming to the school to interview those of us who were involved in Cairo for the CIA investigation. That includes you.”

Erik leaned forward until his forehead was resting on the glass. “Why did you tell her I was still here?”

“Because I was confident that telling you this would not make you run,” Charles said. “You did something good in Cairo, Erik. Let yourself be given the credit for it.”

“Do we need to go over the worldwide death toll for the Apocalypse 'incident' as the fucking news keeps calling it again, Charles? Because every single one of those deaths is on me,” Erik said firmly, pressing his head hard against the glass. “Fuck, I can't be interviewed by the CIA, Charles. Moira will arrest me on the spot.”

“She has no warrant for your arrest,” Charles assured. “And conducting this interview will help make sure that one is never issued.”

“More like make sure one will be issued,” Erik said, pushing away from the window and turning towards Charles. “There's more to this that you're not telling me.”

“You can read me so well,” Charles murmured. “Moira also has questions about what happened in Poland.”

Erik immediately turned around and started walking down the hall. “I'm leaving.”

“Erik,” Charles said, following along. “Please listen to me.”

“You can tell me that she won't arrest me for Cairo all you want to, Charles, but she is going to arrest me for Poland. And I can't fucking talk about it. I can't.” Erik came to a stop at one of the elevators and pressed the call button repeatedly, trying to make it arrive faster. “Fuck. Motherfucking fuck.”

“The questions are about what En Sabah Nur did at the factory, Erik,” Charles said, catching up to him. “Moira also wants to get your side of the story when it comes to what happened at your house so that she can clear your name.”

“Clear my name from what, Charles?” Erik asked, spinning around to face him. “I killed them, Charles. All of them.”

“You did not kill Magda and Nina.”

Just the sound of their names sent agony through Erik. “I may as well have.”

“Erik, honestly, when are you going to stop blaming yourself for this?” Charles asked after a moment. “You did not fire that arrow.”

“No,” Erik said, his throat tight with emotion. “I didn't. But I did the thing that caused the man with the arrow to be there.”

“You saved a man's life, Erik,” Charles pointed out. “You didn't do anything wrong.”

“It doesn't matter. I did it, I was the reason they were there, and I am the reason my babies are dead,” Erik got out just as the elevator arrived. 

Erik darted into the elevator and Charles quickly followed, much to Erik's chagrin. When the doors were closed, Erik reached out to press the button for the floor his room was on, but Charles reached out and pressed the emergency stop instead. 

“We have approximately five minutes before Hank realizes that's been pushed and restarts this elevator,” Charles said calmly before closing his eyes. _Erik, if I may?_

Erik slumped back against the elevator wall and sighed. “If you must.”

Erik closed his eyes and that day in the factory came up in his mind again, that cauldron breaking away from its chain and starting to fall. And Erik felt everything he was feeling in the moment he reached out with his powers and stopped that from falling on his fellow worker. Utter terror at the thought of someone noticing it was him, but the relief that he'd been able to stop it before it hurt Łukasz. The joy he felt at the fact that for once in his life, he'd actually saved another life instead of taking one. 

“I get your point,” Erik said after the memory faded. “It doesn't change my mind.”

“I may never be able to convince you that the fact that you saved that man's life was worth it, given what followed,” Charles said softly. “But I think deep down you know that it was.”

“It didn't even matter. Apocalypse murdered him the next day.”

“It did matter, Erik. It did matter.”

Erik banged his head against the elevator wall. “Charles, just let me leave. Please.”

“If it were just me you were going to hurt by running, I would,” Charles said after a moment. “But it is not just me.”

“They're kids. They'll move on to something else the next day.”

“No, Erik. That's not how kids' minds work and you know it.”

A memory of Nina's extended grief over the death of a beloved rabbit rushed through his mind and Erik sank down to the bottom of the elevator. “I know. But they'll get over it someday.”

“Perhaps,” Charles said. “But I'm not going to allow you to hurt them that way.”

“Charles.”

“Erik, I promise you, no one is going to arrest you. Moira is not coming here with that aim.”

“And when she does?”

Charles took a deep breath then turned towards Erik, locking eyes with him. “I feel sorry for anyone who comes to this school looking for trouble, even her.”

Erik swallowed hard at the look in Charles's eyes. It was deep, it was full of emotion, but more than anything, it was protective. “You don't mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” Charles said as the elevator lurched and began to move. “Don't go, Erik. You're home.”

Their eyes stayed locked for the rest of the elevator ride and when it slowed to a stop, Erik broke the gaze and stood up. Charles was asking him to trust him, essentially. Trust him that Moira wasn't going to do anything that Charles wouldn't let her do. 

Charles had asked him to trust him like that twenty years earlier, when they'd first ended up at the CIA and Erik had been twitchy about the trail of bodies he'd left in his wake in his pursuit of Klaus Schmidt. Charles had been protective then too.

Maybe this was something he could agree to again. Maybe he could trust Charles like that again. 

Erik nodded as the doors opened. “Alright, Charles. I'll stay. I'm home.”

Charles grinned at him, and for the first time in twenty years, Erik felt a little weakened by it.


	15. Chapter 15

“You do not have to hide.”

Erik didn't turn around, instead preferring to continue browsing the books on the shelf in front of him. “Did Charles send you, Jean, or have you sought me out yourself?”

“The Professor is currently busy convincing Peter to speak to Moira,” Jean said, walking up next to him. “He does not want to do it.”

Erik glanced over at her with a confused look. “Why does Peter not want to speak to Moira? He didn't do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you,” Jean said, reaching out with her power and pulling a book from the shelf. “You might like this one.”

Erik took the book from midair and looked at its spine. “ _The Old Man and The Sea_. Hemingway. Awfully insightful of you.”

“It's about personal triumph from loss,” Jean said, turning to face him. “Something I think you need to learn about.”

Erik sighed. “Why doesn't Peter want to talk to Moira?”

“Because of his father,” Jean said, a small smile on her face. “He's very loyal to him.”

Erik's confusion grew. “Peter doesn't want to talk to Moira because of his father. That makes no sense.”

“It won't to you,” Jean said, her smile growing. “Peter is the one who has to explain it. It makes perfect sense to me.”

Erik shook his head in more confusion and turned his attention back to the book. “If I read the book, will you let me get away with hiding from Moira?”

“No,” Jean said, shaking her head. “Talking with Moira will help with the CIA investigation, help with making sure you don't go to prison, and help make sure that Magda and Nina's real killers will be revealed.”

At their names, Erik felt a pain so fresh it made him stumble backwards, bringing worry to Jean's face. “Erik?”

“I'm betraying them,” Erik whispered as tears filled his eyes and the book dropped from his hands. “I'm betraying them.”

He brought his hands up to his face to cover his tears and after a few moments he felt the now-familiar brush of two fingers against his temple and surrendered to the fact that Jean was going to discover his betrayal. 

His heart-wrenching, agonizing, pain so bad it was head-splitting filled betrayal.

The one that he wasn't sure if he wanted to stop.

The fingers moved away from his temple and then he felt two arms wrap around him from the side, Jean giving him as tight of an embrace as she thought she could get away with. Erik shook within her arms as the tears continued to fall, and he heard her murmur soft, comforting words in his head. It took him awhile but eventually he pulled himself together, breaking the embrace and bending down to pick up the book. 

“Now you understand what an awful person I am.”

Jean groaned. “Erik, you are not an awful person.”

“I'm betraying them.”

“By having feelings?” Jean scoffed. “Erik, that's preposterous.”

“I shouldn't be feeling this way. I should just be grieving.”

“You are grieving,” Jean pointed out. “But you are also around someone who you love, and you're just remembering that you do. That's all this is.”

“I don't.”

“I think we both know better than that.”

Erik stood there staring at the book for a few moments before turning his head towards Jean. “You told me it's possible to love two people at the same time.”

“That's because it is,” Jean said softly. “You just have to let yourself come to the realization that you never stopped loving him. That doesn't mean you love Madga and Nina any less. It just means you love him too.”

Erik let his fingers dance across the spine of the book. “Madga was a free spirit. She used to tell me all the time about how love was a fluid thing, something we couldn't control. I thought she was crazy, but now...”

“But now you're starting to think otherwise.”

“I don't want to love him,” Erik said as quietly as he could. “I don't want to go through this again. I just want to be alone for the rest of my life.”

“Well, I think that's a very stupid idea,” Jean said, shaking her head. “Especially when you have someone who loves you right here waiting for you to give him the smallest hint that you need him.”

“Have you been looking inside his head?”

“No,” Jean said seriously. “I've been watching him watch you. No one else knows what to look for, but I do. He's waiting for you, Erik. All you have to do is give him a nod.”

Erik laughed hollowly. “Now you're just playing matchmaker.”

“Now I'm trying to help two people who I care about deeply,” Jean said firmly. “This isn't about being a matchmaker. This is about helping you both be happy.”

“I'll never be happy again,” Erik murmured. “There's no possible way for that to happen.”

Jean sighed heavily. “Read the book, Erik. Then tell me you can't find happiness again.”

Erik looked up to say something else but found Jean stalking away from him, shaking her head. He sighed and looked down at the book again before reaching out and putting it back onto the shelf where it belonged. He didn't need to read _The Old Man and The Sea_ again to get Jean's point. He'd read that book so many times he probably knew it by heart. It was one of the few things they'd given him while he was rotting away in that cell at the Pentagon. 

Erik sighed when he felt someone else approach him from behind, and he turned to see Raven standing there. “Have you come to convince me to talk to Moira?”

“I've come to tell you to get your head out of your ass and realize that talking to Moira will help not hurt,” Raven said, latching on to Erik's arm and pulling him away from the bookshelves. “Come on, the only way everyone is going to talk to Moira is if you do it.”

“What do you mean?” Erik said as Raven pulled him out of the library.

“I mean Peter started it with this bullshit about his father, but now all the kids have decided that they won't talk to Moira if you don't,” Raven said, leading Erik to an elevator. “So you're going downstairs to Charles's study, and you're sitting down with Moira and her tape recorder, and you're answering all of her questions.”

“Raven.”

“I'm not taking no for an answer, Erik.”

“That's not what I was going to say,” Erik said, pulling his arm away from her grasp as the elevator arrived. “Why does Peter not want to talk to Moira? Jean told me it was about his father, but that doesn't make any sense to me.”

“Yeah, well, it wouldn't make sense to you because you don't know who Peter's father is,” Raven said, walking into the elevator with him. “And only Peter can talk to you about that, and he will do that when he is ready to because it's a big deal for him. But the other kids decided to back him up and not talk to Moira too, and Charles finally got them to agree to talk to her if you do, which is why you're talking to her.”

Erik leaned up against the back of the elevator and let his head fall back against the wall. The stuff with Peter and his father still made no sense to him, but he understood why the rest of the kids had banded together with him. They really were becoming a team now, this group of youngsters who at times reminded him too much of the youngsters of the sixties that were all gone now, and Erik could see how once they were all healed and all trained up, the X-Men were going to do some good in the world. 

The elevator ride down was surprisingly silent, and then they made the short distance to Charles's office while Raven told him again that if he tried to get out of talking to Moira, she would use the tricks that he'd taught her to hunt him down and kill him. Charles was waiting outside the door with Moira and Peter, and as soon as Peter saw Erik, he turned around and hobbled away as fast as he could, confusing Erik even more.

“Have I offended Peter?” Erik asked when he came to a stop across from Charles.

“No,” Charles said, shaking his head. “Peter is just sensitive about his father at the moment, and I don't believe he wished to speak to anyone else. Now, Erik, I am very glad that you've agreed to do this.”

“So am I,” Moira said. “You and Ororo were the closest to En Sabah Nur. The testimony from you two is going to be the most crucial.”

“He's dead,” Erik said feebly. “Why does their have to be an investigation anyway?”

Charles and Moira both gave Erik a look. 

“I know, I know,” Erik said, running his hands over his face. “I just think this is going to get me arrested.”

“No, it's not,” Moira said, shaking her head. “We need to understand what happened with En Sabah Nur better so that we can be prepared in the event of something like this happening again. That's why I've been authorized to offer immunity to you and Ororo.”

Erik blinked. “Immunity?”

“Immunity means that you cannot be arrested for anything you tell us,” Moira said. “We want the information, Erik. We're willing to prevent you from going to prison to get it.”

"I know what immunity means." Erik stared at her for a few moments before shaking himself from his stupor. “Does that cover Poland too?”

“That covers Poland too,” Moira said. “Even the stuff that happened before En Sabah Nur showed up. Like I said, we want the information. We need to know what drew him to you, and what drew him to you was, from what Charles was telling me, the incident with your family. Therefore the immunity will cover that as well.”

Erik turned to look at Charles, and Charles gave him a smile. “There is nothing to fear, my friend.”

Erik took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright then. Let's get this over with.”

Charles's smile got wider, and for a moment, Erik's world was a better place.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR HOW LONG THIS UPDATE HAS TAKEN. i have been seriously ill for many months, we're only just figuring out what is wrong with me, and while i'm not doing much better, i have reached a point where if i don't start writing again i'm going to lose my mind. my plan is to slowly (and i do mean slowly) finish this over the coming months.
> 
> i will completely understand if i have lost all of my readers on this because i haven't updated in what, six months, but if there are those of you who have stuck around, or maybe you have found this for the first time and are just coming upon this chapter, i appreciate all of the love and support that this has gotten so, so much. i spent today rereading this story to get back into the mindset, and i reread all of the comments that were left as well, and i seriously cannot put into words how much all of that means to me, especially at this moment in my life. i can only hope to finish this story out in the same manner as i started it, and that anyone who comes upon it likes it.
> 
> with all of that now said, onto the chapter.

Erik went straight back to his room after his interview with Moira was over. His room had a bed now, but it was still missing dressers and as such, there was plenty of room for Erik to pace around the bed. Reliving the moments that Moira had questioned him about had made him restless and the final death toll that he'd gotten her to reveal to him haunted him.

She could say that Apocalypse was the cause of those deaths till she was blue in the face. Erik knew the truth was that he was the one who was really responsible.

A soft knock came at his door and he yelled at whoever it was to come in. The door opened and Jean walked in, a worried look on her face.

“Erik? Are you alright? I could feel your pain all the way out on the basketball court.”

Erik turned to look at the young telepath and sighed heavily. He walked around the bed again but this time sat down on the edge of it, waving Jean over and swinging the door shut behind her. “I found out how many people I killed. The actual number, not the number the news keeps quoting.”

Jean approached him, shaking her head. “Erik, it's not your fault.”

“If it's not my fault, then whose fault is it?” Erik snapped. “I'm the one who reached out, took every single thing that I could feel, and pulled! It didn't matter if it was a car or a building or someone's blood! I just destroyed things. People. Everything. Everywhere. There isn't a country in the world that wasn't damaged. I broke the ice sheets covering Antarctica, Jean! There is a fucking mountain in the middle of Antarctica now, and it's there because I reached down with my powers and literally pulled it out of the surface of the planet! How can you honestly stand there and say it's not my fault?”

Jean sighed heavily. “May I sit down?”

He nodded and Jean sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. “You didn't do those things because you wanted to do those things, Erik. You did those things because you were manipulated into doing them. Apocalypse sought you out because you were vulnerable and powerful, and he took advantage of that fact. He enhanced your powers so that he could use you as a conduit for his destruction. It was his destruction, Erik, not yours. It was his fault.”

Erik went to respond and instead found all of the fight drained out of him. “You don't understand. You've never killed someone before.”

“I have killed someone,” Jean said. “I mentally and physically decimated En Sabah Nur. Don't tell me I don't know what it feels like to take someone's life. I was inside his mind, Erik. I felt everything he felt as he died. That's something you have never experienced, and you should consider yourself lucky for that.”

Erik swallowed hard. “You felt everything he felt?”

“Yes,” Jean said softly. “I have experienced death, Erik Lehnsherr, perhaps in a more complete way than you ever have.”

“I hope you never have to experience that again,” Erik said after a moment. “Death is hard enough to experience the way that I have to do. I cannot imagine experiencing it the way that you did.”

“It was awful,” Jean admitted. “I felt like I was going to throw up as soon as it was over. The Professor, even with as hurt as he was, he soothed my mind and told me to seek you out. But I feel that I will experience death again. If I am to be a part of this team of X-Men that Mystique is putting together, and I really do want to be a part of it, I have to be prepared to experience death again. I don't know the next situation I will be fighting in, and I do not know the next opponent I may have to kill. But there will be a next opponent, and I may have to kill them. You are coming to terms with the death you caused, and I am coming to terms with the death that I caused.”

“Killing someone isn't always the answer,” Erik said. “But I suppose that sounds stupid coming from me, given the amount of killing in my past.”

“You did not kill everyone you came into contact with in your search for Klaus Schmidt,” Jean said. “And you did not kill everyone you came into contact with in your attempt to save President Kennedy, nor during your successful attempt at stopping the Sentinels.”

“I was going to murder Nixon and his entire cabinet on live international television.”

“But you didn't.”

“Because Raven shot me in the neck.”

“You weren't going to do it,” Jean said, looking over at him. “You know it and I know it.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?”

Jean reached out and brushed two fingers along Erik's temple, and a memory of Magda drifted to the forefront of Erik's mind. It was two months after they'd met, the night that Magda had first asked about the White House incident. She'd wanted to know if he'd really planned on going through with it, or if he had been just trying to scare everyone. And his answer...

“I told Magda I wasn't going to actually do it,” Erik murmured. “I'd forgotten about that.”

“Did you lie to her?” Jean asked, letting her fingers fall away from his temple.

“I never lied to her,” Erik said, shaking his head. “Ever. Not about any of it.”

“Then you weren't actually going to do it.”

Erik sat there for a moment as realization hit him. “No,” he said after a moment. “I wasn't. Fuck.”

“Something tells me that if you'd realized that sooner you might be a little happier than you normally are,” Jean said, pushing away from the bed. “I have to go. They're waiting for me on the court, and the Professor is on his way here. I should be gone when he gets here.”

Erik watched as Jean walked towards the door, swinging it open for her. “Jean?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

Jean smiled at him before walking out of the room. A few moments later, Charles appeared in the doorway, and he gave Erik a quizzical look. 

“Jean was just in here?” 

“I apparently worried her because she could feel my pain all the way on the basketball court,” Erik said, swinging the door shut after Charles made his way into the room. “Then we had a conversation about death, and then she made me realize something that I said to Magda years ago was actually true. It was an interesting few minutes.”

Charles shook his head. “She is an exceptional mutant. I'm hoping that when she's older and has completed university, I can convince her to return here as a teacher. I'm hoping that about a lot of that little group of friends actually. I have high hopes for them that doesn't involve the X-Men.”

“They're a good group,” Erik said. “But you didn't come here to talk about them.”

“Moira told me that you did not talk about Poland,” Charles said. “I understand that it is difficult to talk about, Erik, but it needs to be talked about. Ororo can only provide details for part of it. You understand better than she does the situation that she walked into with En Sabah Nur and the others.”

“I'm not sure I can sit across from Moira with a tape recorder in between us and talk about losing my babies,” Erik said, choking up. “I mean, I can't even finish that sentence without getting emotional.”

“You are stronger than you think,” Charles said, and Erik let out a small laugh.

“You sound like Jean.”

“I sound like me. I've been telling you that since 1962.” Charles reached out and put a hand on Erik's knee. “Would it help if I sat in on the interview?”

Erik inhaled sharply at the thought, but then let it permeate in his mind. Charles would be a good anchor to have in the room, someone who he could trust to control his emotions if he started to veer too much down the path to tears. “Will you keep me from crying in front of her?”

“I will keep you from crying too much in front of her,” Charles said seriously. “But I doubt I will be able to contain all of your tears.”

Erik stared at him for a moment before nodding. “You're probably right about that. They show up whenever they feel like it.”

“There is nothing wrong with crying, Erik. Crying is part of grieving.”

“I understand that. But I do not want to cry in front of Moira MacTaggart.”

Charles nodded. “She's waiting downstairs.”

Erik took a deep breath and stood, running his hands through his hair. “Alright, let's go get this over with.”

“I know you do not see the importance of this, Erik, but it truly is important for preparations being made to prevent future incidents like this one,” Charles said as he wheeled himself towards the door. 

“I've got a great idea for how to prevent what just happened from happening again,” Erik said as they left his room. “Lock me up.”

“Erik,” Charles scoffed. 

“If it wasn't for me, all those people would still be alive.”

“If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else. He preyed upon your emotions, Erik.”

“Doesn't change what I did, Charles.”

“Well, no one is locking you up. Not while I draw breath.”

Erik looked down at him and saw the seriousness in Charles's eyes. He swallowed hard around the lump that had quickly formed in his throat, and he wrenched his gaze away from Charles's.

It had been a long time since Charles had looked at him that possessively. 

And Erik liked it.


	17. Chapter 17

Erik awoke suddenly and the first thing he noticed was that the walls were shaking. Alarmed, he jumped out of bed, grabbed a pair of pants off the floor, and stumbled to the door as he put them on. He threw the door open and walked out into the hall, heading down it until he saw children coming out of their rooms and asking each other questions.

“It's happening again?”

“Yeah, but this is worse than that last time. Last time she didn't knock out the electricity.”

It was that comment that made Erik realize that the lights that were shining were backup lights, likely powered by the large generator he'd found in the woods behind the house. He went to ask the children what was happening when Charles's voice went through his mind.

_Everything is fine, everyone. Please return to your rooms._

“Yeah right,” one of the children said. “She's a freak and she deserves to know it.”

“That's not nice to say,” one of the others said. “You heard the Professor. Let's go back to bed.”

“No way. I'm going to go see what she's doing now. Who's with me?”

Erik watched as some of the children went back into their rooms while others followed the one who had been speaking. Erik decided to follow along because they were going to where Charles likely was, and Erik needed answers.

Who in that house was capable of making all the walls shake? Who was this girl that some of the other children considered a freak?

He got his answer a few minutes later when the children came to join a group of other children outside the open door to a room that Erik didn't recognize. But when he walked around the group to look inside, he found his eyes widening as he took in who the girl lying in the bed and being comforted by Charles was.

Jean.

“Excuse me,” Erik said before he knew what he was doing, making his way through the group of children and into the room. “Jean, are you okay?”

Both Charles and Jean looked up at the sound of Erik's voice, and Charles sighed when he saw the group of children. “Erik, talk to Jean for a moment. I need to deal with some of my students.”

Erik walked over to the opposite side of Jean's bed, looking down at her. “May I?”

Jean nodded and Erik sat down on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

“I had a bad dream,” Jean said softly, peeking around Erik to see the children still looking into the room. 

Erik glanced back at the door and, after making sure Charles was clear of it, swung the door shut so they could no longer peer inside. “Don't worry about them. Just talk to me. You had a bad dream? Your bad dreams make the walls shake?”

“The Professor says it's nothing,” Jean said, taking a deep breath. “I disagree.”

“What did you dream?” Erik asked. “If you want to tell me, that is.”

“Not really. It was just a dream. I have dreams all the time,” Jean said. “Not always this bad, but this isn't the first time I've drawn a crowd outside my door. The other kids think I'm a freak because I cannot control my powers.”

“I think you have pretty good control of your powers for someone your age.”

Jean glanced down at the bed. “You're going to make me tell you, aren't you?”

“Kid, I'm not going to make you do a thing,” Erik said seriously. “But something tells me you haven't told Charles the truth about this and, well, maybe you need to tell somebody what just happened.”

“I didn't dream. I got drawn into someone else's dream,” Jean said, taking another deep breath. “To be specific, your dream.”

Erik inhaled sharply. “Jean.”

“I was just drifting off to sleep and I felt pain radiating off of you so I went to soothe your mind and I got sucked into your dream and I lost all control,” Jean said. “I felt everything, Erik. Things you probably didn't even realize you were feeling. The pain, the anger, the sadness, the elation, the death. I felt all of it. And when I lose control like that, the walls tend to start shaking. Usually it's only my room. Apparently this time it was the whole mansion. 

“Anyway, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's yet another piece of you that I've just taken and I shouldn't be doing that. And that's why I don't want to tell the Professor, because he's going to be so angry with me for violating all these ethics rules he's set out for me when it comes to you.”

Erik let out a huge sigh. “I don't dream of the moment I killed Sebastian Shaw often. Hell, I don't even think of it often. I don't know why I was dreaming of it tonight. It's kind of funny to hear you describe those emotions and say elation. I never would have thought that I felt elation at that, but maybe I do. Maybe part of me does enjoy killing people. Maybe that's part of the monster he made me into.”

“You're not a monster.”

“And you're not a freak,” Erik said, looking down at her. “Am I happy about the fact that you saw and felt all that? No, not at all. But you did and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm not going to be angry with you for something you couldn't control. But Charles is right about the ethics of going into someone else's mind, and he knows how much I don't like people going into mine. So I think that now would be a good time for you to step back and start paying attention to those rules he set out for you.”

“I'm so sorry, Erik, really I am,” Jean started, but Erik just shook his head.

“I don't want to hear that. I want you to promise me you're going to try your hardest to observe Charles's ethics rules.”

“I promise,” Jean said, letting her head droop down. “I'll leave you alone, I promise. I'm sure having a teenager come bother you has just been annoying. I'll make sure it doesn't happen anymore.”

“Hey,” Erik said, reaching out and tilting her head up so their eyes met. “I didn't say stay away from me. I said stay out of my head. Those are two very different things. Besides, you're the only reason I have any idea what's going on around here. I don't understand the way children these days communicate. It's very different than the way Nina did.”

At the mention of Nina's name, Erik felt a spike of pain go through his chest, and he could tell that Jean felt it as well, but the young girl did nothing but sit there and stare at him as he worked his way through it. “See,” he said when he felt he could talk again. “You're doing it already.”

“You don't have to go through this alone, Erik.”

“And I won't,” Erik said. “I promise. But I don't need to be putting the depths of my conscience on a sixteen-year-old girl either.”

Jean nodded as the door opened and Charles came back into the room. “Well, the other students are finally on their way back to their rooms. How are things going in here?”

“Good,” Jean said, smiling at him. “Erik has been very helpful.”

“Erik has been helpful,” Charles said slowly, glancing between the two. “Well, that's a first.”

“Hey!” Erik exclaimed, though he could tell Charles was just being playful. “I have been helpful plenty of times in my life.”

“Name one.”

“I rebuilt your house.”

“We rebuilt your house,” Jean corrected.

“Yes,” Erik said. “We rebuilt your house.”

Charles chuckled. “Oh alright. I suppose you are good for things every now and then. Jean, do we need to continue our conversation or can we save the rest for our session tomorrow?”

“I think we can save the rest for our session tomorrow,” Jean said, looking over at Erik. “I'm sure Erik is going to fill you in on what I told him anyway.”

“Not unless you say it's alright,” Erik said.

“It's alright,” Jean said after a moment. “And I swear I will keep my promise.”

“Good,” Erik said, standing up. “Then I will let you get back to sleep.”

“Yes, sleep is a good idea,” Charles said, giving Jean one last smile before wheeling himself towards the door. “Good night.”

“Good night,” Erik said, looking back at Jean. “And sleep well.”

They made their way out of the room and Erik closed the door behind them. “What now?” 

“Shall we go to my study and talk over a game of chess?”

“Will there be scotch?”

“Of course.”

“Then lead the way, Professor.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Erik glanced behind him to see Ororo standing there, then turned his attention back to the television and the footage of the destroyed Auschwitz site. “What's there to talk about? I destroyed it.”

“Why did he take you there?” Ororo asked, walking around the sofa and sitting down next to him. “I found it an odd place to take someone, even if I did not understand what the place was until now.”

“Ororo,” Erik started, “it's not something you really want to hear.”

“Apocalypse said it was where your power was born and your people were slaughtered,” Ororo said. “But the way he said it...it was almost like it was personal to you.”

Erik stared at the television as his vision blurred, memories of the moment his powers emerged flashing through his mind. He heard his mother's voice, screaming for him as they were torn apart, the sound of the metal creaking as he destroyed the gate that separated them, and the thud of the end of the rifle that knocked him out. He blinked his eyes to clear away the tears that were threatening to fall and when he reopened them, he realized that Ororo was holding his hand in hers, gently rubbing circles on the back of it with her thumb. 

“You don't have to do that.”

“You were about to cry,” Ororo said softly. “I remember my mother doing that to me when I was about to cry. It's one of the few memories I have of her.”

She paused. “I didn't mean to make you cry, Erik. I am sorry.”

“I was born in Germany,” Erik said after a couple of moments. “And when World War II began, my family went on the run. We were Jewish, you see, and it was a bad time to be Jewish in Germany. But we couldn't outrun the war, and eventually the Nazis caught up to us. In 1944, we were marched into Auschwitz.”

Ororo tightened her grip on Erik's hand. “Erik, I'm so sorry. I should never have asked.”

“No, no,” Erik said, tilting his head to look at her. “It's good that you know. You were there. You should know why what happened happened.

“Anyway, as we were being marched into the camp, they separated my mother and father from me. My mother started screaming and tried to get to me, and I started screaming and tried to get to her. All that ended up happening was my powers emerging, and I bent the hell out of the gate that separated us until they knocked me out. There was a Nazi officer at Auschwitz who was also a mutant, and he's the one who turned me into Frankenstein's monster. He murdered my mother right in front of me, and I assume my father got the gas chamber treatment. Everything about that place to me is associated with pain and anger. That's why he took me there. To feed on that.”

Ororo let go of Erik's hand and reached out, wrapping him up in an embrace. Erik stayed stiff for a moment before relaxing into it, reaching out to put an arm around her as well.

“Please don't tell anyone I told you that.”

“I won't, Erik, I promise,” Ororo said as she pulled back. “I had no idea. Apocalypse preyed upon each of us in our own ways, but I didn't realize that he went so personal with yours.”

“What did he do to you then?” Erik asked, leaning back into the sofa cushions and running his hands over his face.

“I wanted to belong to something,” Ororo said, sighing. “Please don't tell Mystique this, but I had a photo of her on the wall of where I lived. I wanted to be like her. She was someone who belonged to something, this greater mutant cause. I was just some orphaned kid who stole stuff from the street merchants in Cairo. I was no one and I wanted to be someone. And he promised to make me someone.”

“You were always someone,” Erik said, “ and you were always going to be someone. He just quickened that path. I'm sure of it.”

“I'm glad you are, because I'm certainly not,” Ororo said, laughing. “I was about to get a hand cut off for stealing when he found me.”

“Well, I can tell you that now that you're here, you're never going to have to steal a thing again,” Erik said. “Charles will take good care of you here.”

“And you?”

“And me what?”

“Are you staying?”

Erik sighed heavily. “I don't think I can stay permanently. I just don't think that I'm cut out to be a professor. But for now? I don't have any plans to leave at this exact moment. Will that change tomorrow? Maybe. I don't know.”

“That's better than a no, so I'll take it,” Ororo said, glancing at the clock. “Oh, I've got to go meet Jean and Jubilee. They want me to participate in something called a girls' night.”

Erik laughed as Ororo stood up. “I think that sounds like something you'll enjoy.”

“Let's hope so,” Ororo said. “I don't know much about being a girl.”

“I think you probably know more than you think.”

“Good night, Erik.”

“Good night, Ororo.”

Erik turned his attention back to the television as Ororo walked out of the room, and then he heard a throat clear behind him.

“Um, I didn't think it was right for me to interrupt you while you were talking to Storm so I'm just going to say that I was in the room the whole time and I promise I won't tell anyone either.”

Erik looked behind him to see Peter lying on the sofa that was against the wall, his injured leg propped up on pillows. “You've been here the whole time?”

“I was in the room before you came in here, actually,” Peter said. “But I think I must have been in the middle of one of my ten minute sleeps when you came in because I don't remember you coming in. You were just suddenly there.”

Erik stared at Peter for awhile, and Peter began to squirm under his gaze. “Um, Erik? Why are you just staring at me?”

“Because your...” Erik trailed off, convincing himself that he was seeing things. “Never mind. So you heard everything I said to Ororo?”

“Murdered mothers and gas chambers,” Peter said, his eyes sad. “That shit is awful, man. It's one thing to read about it in a textbook, it's another to meet someone who actually went through it. I'm so sorry, Erik. And I really shouldn't have eavesdropped all of that, but I didn't see a good time to interject.”

Erik sucked in a breath. “It's alright, Peter. Just don't tell anyone.”

“Not a word, I swear,” Peter said, making some sort of hand gesture that Erik didn't understand. “I won't tell a soul.”

Erik stood up and walked around the sofa, heading over to where Peter was lying down and staring at him again. 

Peter looked up at him and, after a minute, reached up and waved his hand in front of Erik's face. “Hey. Erik. What are you doing?”

Erik blinked and shook his head, reaching down and putting a hand on Peter's shoulder. “Nothing. Sorry. Good night, Peter. I hope the leg's doing better.”

Erik walked out of the room without saying another word, still shaking his head.

That conversation must have done something to his brain, because there was no way that Peter could have his father's eyes.

Absolutely no way.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I'm like incredibly sick all of the time and because of that writing doesn't happen when I want it to, but tonight some writing actually worked, so here, have a very long overdue update. I am still writing this story, and I do plan on finishing it, though when that will be I cannot actually answer. so if you're here for the long, winding, slow-going ride with me, I appreciate your patience beyond belief. I hope you enjoy.

After that night in the television room, Erik started to notice things. Like the way Peter would watch him when he thought Erik wasn't looking. Or the way Charles would talk around the concept of Peter's father every time Erik asked if Peter was ready to go meet him. Or the way that all of the other kids seemed to be do the very same.

And then, one idle Tuesday afternoon, realization smacked Erik in the face hard.

The kids talked around Peter's father because Erik **was** Peter's father.

Charles talked around Peter's father because Erik **was** Peter's father.

Peter stared at him when he thought Erik wasn't looking because Erik **was** Peter's father.

Peter had his father's eyes because Erik **was** Peter's father.

**He** was Peter's father.

And that was when he passed out.

He woke up a few minutes later to find a group of students around him, Jean crouched at his side, two fingers drifting to his temple. He blinked his eyes several times as he saw realization go through her eyes, and she quickly shooed all the other children away. The others went, and Erik didn't know if they'd done it of their own accord or if Jean had made them and he didn't really care. He just let his eyes close and rested his head back on the floor.

“Am I right?” he eventually said, and he heard Jean sigh next to him.

“It's not my place to answer that,” Jean said.

“Which means I'm right.”

“There's really only one person who can answer that.”

Erik opened his eyes and swallowed hard. “Will you help me into Charles's office please?”

“Of course,” Jean said, standing up and helping Erik up off the floor. “Do you want me to find Peter?”

Erik sucked in a deep breath as they walked. “I think I need to talk to Charles first.”

“I think he's going to tell you to talk to Peter.”

Erik let out a soft chuckle. “I think you're probably right about that.”

The rest of the walk to Charles's office was silent, and as soon as they reached the door, Charles took one look at Erik before asking the students inside to come back at another time. 

Jean helped Erik into a chair across from Charles's desk and turned to Charles. “Do you want me to go get Peter?”

Charles shook his head. “No, I think Erik needs a little bit of time before that conversation happens. Perhaps keep him away from here for me?”

Jean nodded. “I'll get him to come sit next to the basketball court.”

“Thank you Jean,” Charles said, waiting until she was out of the office and the door was closed before he said another word. “So you figured it out then?”

“How long have you known?” Erik said, lifting his gaze to meet Charles's eyes. “Be honest with me.”

“Since Cairo, nothing more,” Charles said seriously. “Though he suspected you might be his father after the Pentagon, but I had dismissed that thought as inconceivable.” 

Erik leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. “Oh God, Charles. I have a son.”

“A son who desperately wants to know you,” Charles said, wheeling himself around the desk and coming to a stop next to Erik's chair.

“I can't handle this,” Erik said into his hands. “I just lost my babies and now I have a son and I can't handle this, Charles, I can't.”

“Erik,” Charles said, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder. “Truthfully, I think this will be good for you. You've mentioned before how you'd give anything to still have some family out there somewhere. Well, you do, and he's living under the same roof as you at the moment.”

“No,” Erik moaned. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“Erik.”

“This has to be wrong.” Erik turned his head and looked at Charles. “Tell me this is wrong.”

Charles sighed. “Erik, please be rational.”

“Rational?” Erik threw his hands up in the air and stood up. “I just found out I have a teenage son, Charles! How exactly do you expect me to be rational about this?”

“Technically, he's twenty-six,” Charles said, and Erik kicked the chair he'd been sitting in into the desk.

“I don't fucking care about semantics!” Erik collapsed down to the floor as tears started to stream down his face. “I have a son. I have a son. Why? Why is this happening?”

Charles wheeled over to him and reached out, running a hand along Erik's hair. “It's okay, Erik.”

“No it's not.”

“You do realize you're projecting at the moment, right?”

Erik let out a loud sigh. “What does it matter? You'd find out anyway.”

“You may not have been able to have a son with Magda, but she would not have pushed you away for this. She wouldn't hate you for this.”

“You don't know that.”

“If she was the kind, gentle soul that exists in your memories, then I do,” Charles said, taking a deep breath. “Erik, what you believe Magda would have thought is something you need to push aside. As hard as it is for you to accept, she is not here anymore. But Peter is, and he is who you need to deal with.”

Erik just shook his head as he reached up to wipe away tears. “I can never face him. Ever. I have to leave.”

“Oh no,” Charles said, his voice stern. “You have run away from stuff your entire life. I'm not letting you run away from this. You are facing your son.”

“I can't.”

“You can't? You can't?” Charles laughed. “You are Erik Lehnsherr. You are Magneto. You have faced the worst of this world and survived, and you can't man up enough to face your own son? I don't believe that for a second.”

Charles patted Erik on the shoulder. “Stay here. I think you need a drink and I don't have anything here in the office. I'll be right back.”

Erik nodded and buried his face in his hands, letting more tears fall. Magda would be so disappointed in him, in the fact that he'd been able to give another woman a son but he couldn't give her the son that she craved. 

She had always wanted a brother for Nina.

And Nina. Nina was missing out on getting to know her older brother, who she would have adored. And Peter probably would have loved Nina just as much.

His babies. 

His babies were gone.

And he was left with Peter.

He had no idea what to think about that.

A glass of scotch was suddenly in front of him, and he reached out and took it, bringing it up to his lips and knocking it back. “He probably hates me.”

“I can assure you that I don't.”

It took a few moments for that sentence to permeate through to Erik's mind, and he turned his head to the right to find Peter sitting next to him, perfectly still. 

He had never seen Peter perfectly still before. He'd always been moving in some way, but now he was as still as a mannequin. 

“You should.” The words were out of his mouth before he thought about them. “I'm not someone that anyone should care about.”

“I think that's something that I'll be the judge of, thank you very much.” Peter turned towards Erik and took a deep breath. “Look, I've been told my entire life what a piece of shit you are from my alcoholic mother. Ever since you went on TV at the White House and she told me who you really were, all I've wanted is to find you. I just finally got the courage to do it. I didn't realize I was walking into an apocalypse.”

“Well, you found me,” Erik said with a hollow laugh. “And you've discovered that your mother is right. I am a piece of shit.”

“No, you're not,” Peter said, shaking his head. “My mother's ex-husband is a piece of shit. You are a person with a traumatic past that has made some interesting life choices.”

Erik twirled the glass around in his hand and before he could blink it had been filled again. “Thanks. And your mother is right about me.”

“My mother doesn't know you,” Peter said seriously. “Through being here and being around you, I have gotten to know you, or at least started to. I've been privy to some very personal moments with you, Erik. I've gotten to see more of you than I'm sure my mother ever did.”

Erik took a long sip from his glass. “I'm not sure I even know who your mother is,” he said after a moment. “I don't even know how old you are.”

“The Professor told me that he told you that I'm twenty-six,” Peter said. “Which is also something I've told you three times since you came back here with us after Cairo, but I'm not expecting you to remember that.”

“So you were sixteen at the Pentagon?”

“Yup,” Peter said, leaning back against the wall and putting his hands behind his head. “I broke you out as a sixteen-year-old and put an end to my life of crime all at the same time.”

Erik paused with his glass halfway to his lips and turned to look at him. “Life of crime?”

“I used to steal stuff all the time, just because I could,” Peter said, laughing a little. “I even had games from an arcade, like those massive games? I had all kinds of stuff. But I got paranoid after the Pentagon and seeing you on TV like that. So I stopped doing it. Well, I slowly stopped doing it. My mother was happy about it, though she wasn't very happy to learn that you were the reason for it.”

“What's your mother's name?” Erik asked softly.

“Marya,” Peter replied. “I don't know what her maiden name was before she was a Maximoff though.”

“I don't remember what her last name was, but I remember there being only one Marya,” Erik said, polishing off his drink. “I can understand why she hates me.”

“Yeah, maybe we can get into your side of it sometime, because her side of it isn't pretty.” Peter quickly refilled Erik's drink, causing Erik to chuckle. “What? I'm the fastest bartender you'll ever find.”

“I don't doubt that,” Erik said, nodding at the bottle. “Why aren't you having some?”

“Oh, I'd love to, trust me,” Peter said, “but I decided that at least one of us needed to be sober for this conversation, and I was the one who was going to take the hit on that.”

Erik took another sip from his glass and leaned back against the wall next to him. “Peter, this is a lot for me to handle.”

“I'm sure it is,” Peter said. “Why do you think I've been trying so hard to not talk about my father with you?”

Erik just shook his head. “God, that must have been so difficult for you. I'm sorry.”

“Hey, not your fault. You didn't know,” Peter said. “Look, I'm not expecting us to be like best friends overnight, alright? But I'm not letting you run away from me either.”

“It's just that my babies,” Erik started, then paused with a lump in his throat. “They...”

“I understand,” Peter said. “I really do. And I'd love to learn more about my stepmom and my half-sister, but it's going to take time and I get that. It's going to take time for you to get used to me being your son, and I get that. I just want to know that you're going to let me get to know you, Erik. I don't even know if Erik is your real name. My mother said your name was Max.”

“Max Eisenhardt,” Erik murmured. “That's the name I was going by when I met your mother. I should tell you about that and my other aliases someday. But not today.”

“Yeah, I think we've probably covered about all that we can today,” Peter said, looking over at him. “Look, Erik, I know this was a lot to spring on you, and I'm sorry.”

Erik shook his head and smiled at him. “You didn't spring this on me, I figured it out. And I'm sorry I didn't figure it out sooner. The last few weeks must have been very hard on you.”

Peter laughed. “I think the last few weeks have been hard on everyone,” he said, maneuvering himself up off the floor. “But hopefully things will be on an upswing from here, right?”

“Let's hope,” Erik said as Peter grabbed his crutches and made his way towards the door. “Oh, and Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“When you call your mother and tell her that I now know that you're my son, tell her that I'm deeply sorry and would like the chance to explain someday.”

Peter laughed. “I'll pass that along, but you're never going to get that chance.”

“I somehow already knew that.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry yet again for the long delay between chapters but I am going to finish this, I promise.

Erik was laying in the grass by where the gazebo had once stood, staring up at the stars. It was a clear night, not a cloud in the sky, and it reminded him of nights in Poland when he and Magda would climb up on the roof of their small house and watch the stars for hours. Once Nina had been born, they'd brought her up there as well, and soon it became a family tradition, every new moon, to climb up onto the roof and watch the stars all night. 

Erik felt the tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't try to stop them.

Sounds of student life drifted out from the mansion through opened windows, and Erik caught laughs and shrieks and bits of conversation as he laid there, just enough noise to keep him from going too far into his memories, not enough noise to ruin the few memories he was allowing himself to relive. It was pleasant, miserable, and painful. 

Erik knew those three feelings well. His whole life could be boiled down to those three words. Pleasant, miserable, and painful. 

He heard someone approaching but didn't move. He wasn't going to let anyone bother him. If someone wished to join him, fine, but no one was going to disrupt this perfect state of misery that Erik found himself in. But when he heard the sound of crutches hitting the ground, he turned his head to see Peter laying next to him, staring up at the stars.

“If you want me to leave, you're going to have to give me at least fifteen minutes because it hurt like a bitch to get down here and I need to let the pain subside before I try to get up.”

“I wasn't going to ask you to leave, Peter,” Erik said, taking the opportunity to get in a good look at his son. Peter reminded him of his father so, so much now that he was actually allowing himself to see it. “I'm glad that you joined me.”

Peter tilted his head in Erik's direction. “You are?”

“Our father-son relationship didn't get the best start,” Erik said, turning his gaze back to the sky. “I'm hoping that this conversation goes better than the last.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Have not had a sip all day,” Erik said, taking a deep breath. “First day I can say that since the apocalypse.”

“That's good,” Peter said. “I think you drink too much.”

Erik let out a small chuckle. “I probably do. Magda, your step-mother, she was always trying to get me to stop drinking so much beer.”

“Beer? I haven't seen you drink a beer the whole time we've been here. You've been practically mainlining whiskey.”

“After the things I've just done, harder liquor than beer was required,” Erik said, taking a deep breath. “Ask me.”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Ask me. I know you want to.”

“Marya, she told me a lot of things about you, and I just...I kind of want to know your side of it,” Peter said. “Not that I'm saying my mother is a liar, but well, she's kind of a liar. Anything to make her the victim. Boy do I have some stories I could tell you.”

Erik took another deep breath. “Marya and I met at a bar near the Smithsonian. I forget the name of it, but I saw her across the room and thought she was beautiful. She had on this green dress with white flowers on it. I don't even know why I remember that but I do. Anyway, I bought her a drink and we found conversation easy enough. She distracted me that night from my original purpose of being in that bar.”

“And what was that?”

Erik chuckled. “I was hunting Nazis.”

“You were hunting Nazis, and my mother, _Marya_ , was enough to distract you from that?” Peter asked, looking over at Erik. “How drunk were you?”

“Don't disparage your mother like that,” Erik admonished. “A woman like her was broken by circumstances and you never knew her the way that I did.”

“Broken by circumstances or broken by you?”

“Both,” Erik said, sighing heavily. “Fast forward a couple months and I was hunting Nazis all over the DC area by day and romancing your mother by night. Her parents loved me, but they made me uneasy because they reminded me of my parents, and the more attached your mother got, the more I knew that I was going to have to leave. The circumstances of my leaving, however, were unplanned.”

“Unplanned how?”

“I was hunting Nazis yes, but I was hunting one Nazi in particular. His name was Klaus Schmidt. He is the man who made me into the monster that I am today.”

“You're not a monster.”

“Yes I am,” Erik said, glancing over at Peter. “Anyway, leads on Klaus Schmidt were scarce. It was like he'd vanished from the face of the Earth after the war ended. Now I know why that is, but at the time, it was incredibly frustrating. Anyway, your mother called me that morning and told me she had something important to tell me that night, and I said I would be there as always. And then that afternoon, I got a lead on Schmidt. And I had to make a choice, stay and continue the domestic life with your mother or continue my pursuit. And I chose to continue my pursuit. I was gone by that evening.”

“Okay, we're going to come back to this Schmidt guy in a minute,” Peter said. “Do you want to know what my mother was going to tell you that night?”

“I've done the math over the last few days, Peter. I think I've got that part figured out.”

“It wasn't just that she was pregnant,” Peter said, sighing heavily. “She was going to tell you that she knew you weren't who you said you were but that she didn't care. She loved you. She'd go with you anywhere. And then you never showed up and never came back.”

Erik laid there for a moment before he sucked in a deep breath. “Peter, when your mother told you that I was your father, did she tell you my name was Erik Lehnsherr or did you just already know that?”

“No, she knew it,” Peter said, sighing again. “Some guy came to her in the days before you left, like two or three days, I don't remember, and told her who you really were. What it was you really did. Who you were hunting. I've heard the name Klaus Schmidt before because I've heard it from her.”

Erik swallowed hard and forced the anger that was building within him to settle down. “Did she say who this guy was?”

“Sebastian something,” Peter said. “I can never remember his last name.”

Erik sat straight up, a little dizzy from the speed of it. “Sebastian Shaw?”

“Yeah, Sebastian Shaw,” Peter said, then paused. “How do you know that?”

Erik sat there silently while his anger built and built until he was absolutely seething. “If I hadn't already killed that lousy motherfucker, I'd hunt him down right now and kill him right now for even coming near her.”

“Whoa,” Peter said, sitting up next to Erik and carefully putting a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you should calm down a little bit.”

Erik curled his hands into fists and pounded at his legs in frustration. “I can't keep anyone safe. I couldn't keep Marya safe apparently, and I definitely couldn't keep Magda and Nina safe, and lord only knows how I'm going to get you killed in the end. I cannot do anything but harm those I care about. Fuck, I'm even the one who paralyzed Charles.”

Peter's eyes were wide and his hands were trembling. “Erik, who is Sebastian Shaw?”

Erik let out a bitter laugh. “Sebastian Shaw is Klaus Schmidt. He's a mutant who fed off energy sources to stay young. I have no idea how old he actually was when I killed him, but he looked younger when I killed him than he did when I was twelve. I tracked and hunted and killed my way through Nazis looking for him for almost twenty years before I finally found him, and despite Charles's best efforts, I couldn't keep myself from killing him. He'd caused me too much pain.”

Peter swallowed hard. “Shaw was Schmidt? Seriously?”

“Seriously. So your mother was told all about my quest to kill Klaus Schmidt by Klaus Schmidt himself.” Erik slammed his fists into his legs again. “God, now I want to apologize to your mother more than ever. I know it'll fall on deaf ears, but still. I put her in danger. I put her in danger while she was with child.”

Erik let himself fall back down to the grass. “I put everyone I love in danger. Want to guarantee a horrible and gruesome death? Get close to Erik Lehnsherr. It's the only thing he's truly good at.”

“Now that's just ridiculous,” Peter said, laying back down next to him. “You are good at lots of things, and not all of them result in horrible and gruesome deaths. I don't think you'd be welcome around here if you only did that.”

Silence fell over them for several minutes before Peter coughed. “Um, you said you paralyzed the Professor?”

Erik groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. “It was on a beach in Cuba during the Missile Crisis. Shaw was trying to make Russia and the USA start a war, we were there to prevent that from happening. I'd just killed Shaw, I wasn't in the right mind, though I still hold firm to my philosophies that I was basing my actions on. Anyway, MacTaggert started firing her gun at me and I was deflecting the bullets, and I deflected one right into Charles's spine. And then I left him lying there on that beach with no feeling in his legs. Not alone, but I just left him there. And I ruined what was possibly the best relationship I've ever had because of it.”

And as soon as those words left his lips, Erik wanted to take them back. But he couldn't. He couldn't unsay them and he couldn't unthink them, and after a moment, he found that he didn't want to. His relationship with Charles had been the best relationship he'd ever had. Better than any of the flings, better than his short time with Marya, and as much as it pained him to say it, better than his time with Magda. 

Charles was the one. He'd known it since 1962 and been in denial about it for pretty much just as long.

“So you and the Professor, huh? That, um, that actually makes things make a lot more sense, truthfully.”

Erik looked over at Peter. “You're not sickened by the thought?”

Peter let out some sort of unintelligible sound that Erik thought was probably supposed to be a scoff. “I know it's not the societal norm or whatever, but I'm a big proponent of whatever makes you happy makes you happy. If you're a guy and that happens to be another guy, then great. If you're a girl and it happens to be another girl, then great. Love is such a wonderful thing, why should people deny themselves of it just because the person they love happens to be the same sex as they are? No, Erik, I am far from sickened at the thought. I think it's fantastic.”

Erik stared at Peter for a few moments, seeing his father yet again, but also seeing himself. Seeing how Peter was a better version of himself, with some obvious hints of Marya thrown in there. And at that moment, for the first time, Erik was proud to have Peter as a son. 

“I think we've covered enough for tonight, don't you?” Erik asked, turning his gaze back to the stars. “What do you know of constellations, Peter?”

“Not a damn thing.”

Erik smiled. “Then let me teach you.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I self-published a book! It's a YA fantasy story and if you want to get it (it's cheap!) then [go here!](http://www.amazon.com/Aetherion-Rising-Adelia-Chamberlain-ebook/dp/B00FUT7UF4/) Do you want to read the first two parts free? [Go here!](https://www.wattpad.com/story/44126937-aetherion-rising/parts)


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